


numbed by the liquid in this cup

by huff_le_puff



Series: No Second Chances Allowed [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boggarts, Chronic Illness, Depression, Family Fluff, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren, House Elves, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, It's Really A Swwet Moment, Knife Violence, Luna knows, Lydia Blackmails Sirius Black, Lydia gets help, Lydia's Grandfather Cares, Marauders, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Mother Hen Percy Weasley, Neville Has A Baby Crush And He's Really Confused, Nightmares, Overworking, Panic Attacks, Past Infidelity, Physical Disability, Poverty, Professor Remus Lupin, Protective Neville Longbottom, Protective Percy Weasley, Remember Luna's A Seer? It Comes True, Scoliosis, Seer Luna Lovegood, Shrieking Shack, Sibling Bonding, Sirius Black Disguised, Sirius Black IS Blackmailed, Sirius Black Is Scared, Sirius Black Likes Crisps, Sirius Black as Padfoot, Sirius Blak Bites When He Panics, Sirius Is Cute When A Dog, Sleep Deprivation, Stabbing, Surgery, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Verbal Abuse, aftermath of surgery, but like, knockoff version, lowkey mafia type family, misuse of medication, secret sibling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25139488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huff_le_puff/pseuds/huff_le_puff
Summary: The adults are always saying your teenage years are the best. They’re delusional.First Lydia is nearly poisoned by corned beef, then dementors surround the supposedly safe school. After that, Lydia accidentally (okay not so accidentally) overworks herself to the point of an intervention, has to leave school (and right after returning from getting her back sliced open! really, fate?) for America, and when she comes back all her friends are worried for her. That’s not even mentioning the werewolf-professor and loose murderer situation!So yeah. Thirteen fucking sucks.
Relationships: Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Original Female Character(s), Ginny Weasley & Original Female Character(s), Neville Longbottom & Original Female Character(s)
Series: No Second Chances Allowed [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659640
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	1. Catching Up With The McBriens

**Author's Note:**

> I know you must be so disappointed not to see my handsome face. What, that ugly mug? No, she’s sad she can’t see MY handsome face. Aren’t you, Lyds? Bloody hell, the ego on this one. We look forward to seeing you on the train! 
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -
> 
> Lydia’s summer goes by twinless, but it’s still slightly entertaining. Okay, it’s boring. So. Boring. 
> 
> *Ginny's POV for beginning, but then will switch to normal.

Ginny had never been to a Muggle house before. It was quite a bit smaller, for one. Lydia had called it some word...a flat? Yes, it was called a flat. 

Ginny has no idea how Lydia, her mother and her grandfather all fit in the flat, because it was very small. The smallest room had to be Lydia’s, unless you counted the linen cupboard. Ginny didn’t. 

You could barely stand shoulder to shoulder within the entrance to Lydia’s room, and the girl had welcomed them in by saying, “Just step over the bed to get through.” You had to step _over_ her bed just to get inside the room! And even then there wasn’t much space!

There were old toys scattered against the far wall across from Lydia’s bed, and then a rickety old desk with a skinny chair that looked new, and thus out of place. There was a multicolored right on the ground, and she and Lydia sat on that rather than try to walk around because there wasn’t enough room to do that. Looking around, Ginny couldn’t find anything to suggest the room was Lydia’s. The most personal thing was Stoner’s cat tower, and a tiny little frame with photos of the twins and Lydia from last summer. 

Ginny has never seen such a small room. The Burrow was crowded, sure, but she at least could walk around in her room. How on earth could Lydia do anything in such a small space?

The bathroom was only slightly better. While the loo she shared with her brothers had a tub to bathe in, the McBrien’s only had a shower head and glass box of sorts. The toilet was so small when Ginny had sat on it her knees had nearly touched her chin, and the sink was so tall Ginny needed to climb to look at herself in the mirror. 

The television was the best thing, aside from the several canvases and framed photos hung about the place. While they ate dinner, Lydia’s grandfather had watched what he called ‘The Game’ - Lydia later told her it was just a bunch of idiots chasing each other around a field to get a squishy ball. 

Ginny had had a very good time with Lydia, but she left feeling shocked. She’d never met anyone poorer than her own family, and seeing how little food was in the cupboards was sobering. And when she had asked Lydia where her mother and grandfather slept, Lydia had said they shared the bigger room! Ginny couldn’t imagine her dad sleeping with Granny Filomena!

Ginny left the flat knowing two things: One, she desperately needed to thank her parents for all they did, and two, she needed to talk her mum into making Lydia and her family all their winter things so they didn’t have to buy them. Yes, that would do for now. 

* * *

**_22nd July, 1993_ **

_Lydia,_ **_you little yank,_ **

_You’ll never believe what’s happened!_ **_Hell, we didn’t believe it at first. Thought Dad was pranking us for a change!_ ** _Did you read about the Daily Prophet Draw?_ **_You must have. You get the post don’t you?_ ** _Dad won the draw, Lyds! SEVEN HUNDRED GALLEONS._ **_Can you imagine what you’d do with that much gold?_ ** _Well we sure can! We’re going to Egypt to visit Bill._ **_Haven’t seen him in years, he barely ever comes home._ ** _It’s so expensive to get a port key to another country. Mum and Dad barely had enough for their visit last year._ **_Reckon we’re all going to try helping Ginny get over last year._**

 ** _Speaking of, how is our favorite yank doing?_ ** _No nightmares, we hope! We’ll be back a week before school starts up again, so we won’t see you this summer._ **_I know you must be so disappointed not to see my handsome face._ ** _What, that ugly mug? No, she’s sad she can’t see MY handsome face. Aren’t you, Lyds?_ **_Bloody hell, the ego on this one._**

 ** _We look forward to seeing you on the train!_ ** _Same compartment as last year, yeah? We’ll meet you there._

 **_Forge & _ ** _Gred_

  
  


* * *

Lydia was so bored. You could only eat so much crappy hotel popcorn until you got bored out of your mind, especially if you were a thirteen year old. “Can I go out, please?”

Louie McBrien sighed. “You are thirteen, I don’t think you should be walking around London unattended. I have my meeting in fifteen minutes.”

“Oh Grandpa, _please!_ You know I can defend myself. I'll even carry that knife Dad got me for my tenth birthday. With the serrated edges!”

He gave a sigh and glanced at his watch. “Fine. One hour, young lady. I’ll be checking in with the desk clerk, so if you’ve been longer than an hour she’ll let me know.”

Lydia nodded eagerly. “I won’t go in any alleys, I promise! Just some shops.”

He nodded at her, left with his briefcase, and Lydia was left alone. 

She actually liked going with her grandfather to these work conferences, even if she got bored too quickly. She slipped her feet into the ratty old trainers she’d had for five years and laced them up, then she ran through the hallways and right out the hotel’s front doors. 

Lydia had only been walking London’s streets a few minutes when she saw two people dressed in what looked like cloaks. The younger of the two was dressed more casually, with jeans, but the older looked pristine. 

“Hey, Lydia!”

She grinned to herself as she recognized the younger boy. “Cedric!”

They ran to each other, and Cedric hugged her tight. “What are you doing in London?”

“My grandfather’s trying to get a promotion, so I’ve been staying in the hotel while he meets with people. What are you doing?”

“Dad and I’ve been immersing ourselves. I’ve gotta do it for Muggle Studies.”

The older man cleared his throat. “Don’t say ‘Muggle’ so loud, Ceddy! They might hear you.” He looked down at Lydia. “Amos Diggory’s my name. What’s yours, dear?”

She smiled. “Lydia McBrien, sir.”

Cedric jumped suddenly. “Dad, can Lydia come back to the house? Please?”

Amos nodded. “Yes, I don’t see why not. Lydia, where are your parents? You should ask for their permission.”

Lydia rubbed the back of her neck. “They’re not here. But I can ask my grandfather’s friend to get a message to him! There’s lots of them in the lobby.”

After waiting to get a response through one of his coworkers, Lydia's grandfather agreed she could go so long as she was dropped back at the flat for dinner. So, Amos apparated both children to a house near Ottery St. Catchpole. 

Cedric had taken off running before Lydia was even given a chance to recover, already chattering excitedly. 

“So first I’ll show you my room, because I got a really cool Muggle comic set up there. Some hero called Spider-Man! Oh and then I gotta introduce you to Mum, she’s been dying to meet you. Ooh, we should bake something! Do you like frosting? I like frosting.”

Amos helped Lydia to her feet, and gestured to where Cedric was running towards the house, still talking. “Good luck, Lydia. Cedric’s a bit hyper.”

Lydia nodded at Amos and then jogged to catch up with Cedric, despite the pain it sent shooting up her spine. She really couldn’t wait for that to stop.

They had ruined the kitchen. Batter and sprinkles had somehow made it to the ceiling, and across the cupboards. Lydia’s hair was stained pink and blue, and Cedric’s chin was a mix of the two. (Lydia had been feeding him frosting off a spoon, and then he made a pun and she couldn’t stop herself from smearing the frosting on his face in retribution. Mrs. Diggory had gotten that on photo.)

“Smile, children!” There was a camera’s click, and then Mrs. Diggory was giggling. She handed the camera off to Amos, and then grabbed a flannel out of the sink. “Come here Ceddy, I don’t want to send you to Miss Wellmer’s house with that mess.”

Cedric ducked from her hand. “Mum, I’m fifteen!”

“And messy, yes. I’m glad we’ve established that.”

Mrs. Diggory had insisted Lydia use their shower, and then had sent her home with Amos, who had been kind enough to develop the few photos his wife had taken and give them to Lydia.

* * *

**30th July, 1993**

**Hey Lydia!**

**First of all, thank you for the Alstroemerias. Gran had to practically pull the book you sent with out of my hands, it was so good! I can't believe Baron Clas von Alstromer (the Swedish botanist the flower's named after) was a squib, but you can tell in his methods. A lot of them he uses methods that we do (or used to, anyway) in herbology, just without the magic. I'll cut off the rambling I want to do here, since I'm sure you don't care as much as I do.**

**To answer your question ("Could you tell me a little bit about what houses are? I read something about family houses the other day and I don't get it."): Okay so, think about the fiction books you've read about royalty. They probably say something about old money, right? And the title of Lord or Lady gets passed down from parent to child, right? That's how the Houses generally work. Most of the current wizarding families, at least the widely known ones, are part of a house. The ones you would know are House Malfoy, House Longbottom, House Potter. The Prewetts had a House, but since the Lords died in the last war there's no one to claim it. (The Prewett House only goes to twins.) It's all kind of archaic, really. But basically, the more money your House has, the more valued and "respected" you are, especially in the Wizengamot. Like most things in the magical world, the Muggles have advanced past us. They have no need for that sort of thing. I don't know a whole lot about Muggle politics, so I can't know for sure. But that's what I've heard.**

**Honestly, the only people who put any stake with the Houses are the people like Malfoy, and the Blacks. The old pureblood families, you know? Since we've gotten more Muggleborns in recent years (now that they're not being killed by You-Know-Who or Grindewald) the House system will probably become even less important. Like I said, it only matters in politics, where throwing around money is all they do. It seems like the Muggle world has progressed far past the "need" for them, which I think is a good thing.**

**Wow, I rambled! I had lots of lessons about that sort of thing, so if you have more questions, owl me.**

**I'll see you in a month!**

**Neville Longbottom**

* * *

“Where to next, Lydia?”

“Uh, I just gotta get my books - ooh! Mom, look, it’s Harry!”

“Oh, why don’t you go say hi?” 

Lydia ran off, leaving her mother to follow after at a slower pace. 

Upon reaching the table Harry was sitting at doing schoolwork, she sat and waited for him to notice her. She stole a few chocolate chips off his melting sundae, then whispered, “You spelled aconite with two e’s. Snape’ll give you a T for that.”

Harry glanced up in surprise. “What?”

She grinned at him, then whispered, “Hi, heard you blew your aunt up.”

Gawking, Harry asked, “Good summer?”

“Brill. Mom, this is Harry. Harry, this is my mom, Beverly McBrien.”

She cleared her throat. “Harry, my Lydia has told me how good you are at beating her in chess. Thank you for keeping her company in the infirmary.”

Harry raised his eyebrows in Lydia's direction. “You didn’t mention the other stuff?”

“Mom, he also saved Ginny from a basilisk last year and took down a murderous maniac as a baby. Oh, and then again in first year, when wizard Hitler was attached to our defense professor's skull underneath a turban.” Turning to Harry, “Better?”

All three laughed, Beverly nervously. 

“Let’s get going, Lydia. You need your books and my shift starts in an hour.”

Lydia gave a slightly annoyed sigh. “Oh, right. See you, Harry!”

* * *

**24th August, 1993**

**Lydia,**

**Hello, I'm writing to thank you for the birthday present. Ron tried to steal the chocolates, but whatever jinx you placed shocked him - quiet literally - into leaving my things alone. I feel like, due to my Prefect status, I should tell you off for that. But, I can't. Don't ever tell Fred and George, but I laughed outright! I am curious, what jinx was it?**

**I greatly enjoyed the book about Headboys through history. I found myself greatly surprised the book went as far back as the 1511! Granted, that was only four hundred some years ago (482 to be exact) but still, I was surprised. Are you looking to become a Prefect? Though you spend time with the twins, I can see you fitting into the role well. If you are looking to become one, you must start campaigning now! Please ask me for any advice should you need it.**

**To end my letter, I have a simple question: How are you faring? Ginny is having nightmares after last year, which is to be expected, but so is Penelope Clearwater. Pen was one of the victims of the petrifications, and - please don't tell anyone - currently my girlfriend. I am trusting you greatly with this knowledge Lydia - I beg, don't tell anyone, especially the twins! Are you doing alright? I'm only a letter away should you have need of me.**

* * *

“Oi, McBrien!”

Lydia spun in place next to Luna, and both ran to greet the Weasleys. 

While Luna was getting hugged by the twins, Lydia hugged Percy. 

“Congratulations on Head Boy, Percy. I know you’ve worked hard for it.”

He smiled down at her, but the twins interrupted. 

“The betrayal!”

“How did we never realize there’s a traitor among us?” 

“Next you’ll be telling us you’re aiming for prefect.”

“And reporting us to McGonagall for pranks!”

Both twins shuddered. Lydia grins. 

Mrs. Weasley, likely trying to avoid said pranks being discussed, gave Lydia a tight hug. 

“Oh goodness, you’ve gotten skinnier, my dear! What are your parents feeding you?” The woman shoved a turkey sandwich in her hands, and Lydia stuffed it in her open rucksack.

Lydia squirmed in discomfort as Percy began fawning over her as well. 

“I had a growth spurt, Percy, chill.”

Fred rested his elbow on her head. “Still short as ever!”

“Nuh-uh! I’m nearly your height!”

“Sure, shorty. Keep telling yourself that.”

In the commotion, Ron grabbed his own corned beef sandwich from his mum, bumped clumsily into Lydia, accidentally catching his hand on Lydia's rucksack, and left for the train. 

When Lydia and her friends were digging into their sandwiches from Mrs. Weasley a half hour later, Lydia dropped hers as though it burned her. 

“What’s up?” Lee asked, grabbing it off the floor. 

She ignored him and turned to the twins. “Fred, your mum knows I’m allergic to beef, right?”

“Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“Because that’s corned beef.”

The twins frowned, and George grabbed the corned beef from Lee. 

“Probably got mixed up in the hustle. I’ll go see if Ron has yours.”

“No,” she decided, grabbing his arm to stop him. “It’s fine, I’m nauseous anyway.”

They all frowned, but didn’t say anything as Luna got out her paints and began painting rainbows on their arms. 


	2. Knee Deep in Flobberworms & Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not her fault every time she goes to the third floor she freezes up for a moment, expecting to see a huge snake. It’s not her fault whenever she tries to eat she wonders if it will be her last meal. And honestly, it isn’t her fault that she purposely puts off sleeping as long as possible to avoid the nightmares. None of that is her fault!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel the need to remind you I don’t hate Hermione, and neither does Lydia. It’ll just take some time for Lydia and Hermione to see eye to eye, but when they do, it’ll be great and the entire world will fall to ashes :)

It was always hard to adjust to Hogwarts after the summer. 

It wasn’t the homesickness, not at all. It was more a cumulative of things. Like the guilt of not being homesick. While Parvati was crying because she missed her Amma, Lydia was coming up with excuses so she could stay at the school for each holiday break. 

While Hermione talked of how excited she was to see her cousins, Lydia had nightmares (and a scar) from hers. 

Lydia felt a fierce jealousy rise when the Weasleys got packages from their parents. When she remembered the comfy and warm atmosphere of the Burrow. 

Adjusting was hard. Lydia was grateful for the reprieve, but it was filled by the knowledge that in ten months time she would have to face her father and his family again. 

And that wasn’t even mentioning her headaches. Getting used to the full ache from sensing magic, even with her glasses, took weeks. 

Lydia didn’t know if it would ever fully leave her. 

The weight of her glasses, something she didn't feel during the summer months of not needing them, was difficult to get used to. 

And she could never remember to clean them. She didn’t know why, she just never remembered! So, her friends would randomly take them off her nose and clean them for her. Which was nice, albeit a tad awkward sometimes. Especially when Neville had done it the first time, during a Transfiguration lesson. His hands were shaking with nerves, and he had accidentally poked her in the eye. She had accidentally let out a swear, and they had both lost house points. Neville had nearly cried. 

Lydia was very tired the first day of classes, which meant she jolted awake when Professor McGonagall handed her a timetable. 

Glancing over it, Lydia noticed she had four classes a day, sometimes with double lessons. Except for Wednesday’s, when she would have six lessons. Today, however, she would be going to Arithmancy, Runes, Transfiguration, Defense, and a double Herbology lesson. She would have to remember to make time to see Hagrid, since she hadn’t been able to take his class. Perhaps he would show her a few things even though he wouldn’t be her professor. 

She groaned quietly, which of course Katie noticed. “What’s wrong, dear?”

“I am too damn tired for five classes today. Plus, I’m kinda dreading Defense on Monday.”

“Why’s that?” Lee was who asked it, handed her a cup of tea. 

“Have you noticed the past few Defense professors? If the Headmaster will hire _Lockhart_ , who’s to say he’ll ever get us a good professor?” She squinted in disgust at her tea, and set it aside. “Even if the professor is good, I didn’t sleep last night.”

“Why ever not?!” Alicia demanded. 

The entirety of the Quidditch team sat with her turned to her expectantly, all looking worried. What was it about the Quidditch team feeling so protective towards her?

“Because I couldn’t fall asleep. Eventually the girls got annoyed with my tossing and turning, so I got ready and sat in the common room until breakfast.”

Before they replied, someone tugged on Lydia’s hair, which she had changed from her trademark plaits to a simple tail. What, she was nearly fourteen and the plaits made her feel childish. Sue her. 

She elbowed whoever it was without really thinking, then turned to see Ron cradling his ribs. 

The twins were snickering into their hands.

“What the bloody hell was that for?!”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “You tugged on my hair, what did you expect? Don’t touch a girl without her permission, you little-”

Oliver cleared his throat. “Lydia, the professors are still passing out time tables.”

She scowled. “Don’t touch my hair again, Ron. You’re lucky I didn’t grab my knife out of pure instinct.”

(It was easy to ignore Hermione’s startles gasp and her hissed, “You have a _knife?!_ ” Lydia was very talented in ignoring people, she just often found it more fun to react. Usually with a fist.)

Standing, she grabbed her things and pressed a kiss to the top of both Fred and George’s heads. She ruffed Oliver’s hair and gave Lee’s cheek a poke. “See you boys later, I’m off to ‘rithmancy.”

Nev reached out to grab her wrist as she passed. “Hey, Lydia!”

“Hm?”

“Can I sit by you in Transfiguration?”

She smiled. “Of course, Nev. I’ve got Runes before it, but I’ll meet you… What’s your lesson just before lunch?”

Neville glances at his time table. “Uh, looks like Divination.”

“I’ll meet you at the Tower, okay?”

He smiled at her, and she continued to the Seventh floor, where Arithmancy would be. 

* * *

Okay, Lydia will admit it. She’s overworking herself. It’s not her fault every time she goes to the third floor (which she has to do several times a week for lessons) she freezes up for a moment, expecting to see a huge snake. It’s not her fault whenever she tries to eat she wonders if it will be her last meal. And honestly, it isn’t her fault that she purposely puts off sleeping as long as possible to avoid the nightmares. None of that is her fault! 

It was all going fine until she had gone to her study group a day or so into the term and sat without moving too long, so caught up in her own thoughts. Long enough Padma had noticed. 

“Oi, Lydia.”

“Hm?”

Padma was frowning, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “Are you alright? That’s the fourth time I said your name.”

“Yeah, I was distracted.”

Heidi looked at her too. “You’re never distracted. What’s wrong?”

Lydia sighs. She may as well tell the truth. “I haven’t been sleeping well. And every time I go to Charms, or the library, I have to pass the spot I was petrified. It's...screwing with me.”

“Lydia, if meeting here bothers you, we’ll meet somewhere else.” Terry told her, looking uncharacteristically serious. “You should’ve said something.”

Lydia shook her head. “No it’s...I’m fine. I’ll _be_ fine.”

Padma reaches her hand across the table to touch Lydias. “Look, I - we - don’t know why you’re going through, especially after what happened last year. But you cannot throw yourself into your studies to avoid it, Lydia. It may help your grades, but only hurt you. Please, talk to someone.”

Lydia snorts. “I’m good, but thanks. It was just a snake, I need to get over it.”

  
  


Apparently that wasn’t happening. Not a week after that first confrontation, Percy woke her at what must’ve been the middle of the night. 

“Wha?”

Percy smiled slightly from above her. “C’mon, wake up, Lydia.”

Lydia rubbed at her face. “What time is it?”

“Too late for you to be in the common room. Merlin, how long’ve you been out here?”

Lydia glances at her Muggle chemistry textbook and notes. “Uh, I started with chapter one after dinner.”

Percy balked at her. “Lydia.”

“Yes?”

“You’ve written notes all the way to _chapter seven_.”

“I, uh, I like to work ahead.”

Percy rubbed a hand over his face, looking like he wanted to shake her silly. “Okay. Let me try this again. Lydia McBrien, you _cannot_ work yourself like this! You did seven chapters in about ten hours! You are thirteen years old, so stop studying and do something childish!”

“But Percy I have to!”

“Oh, and just why is that?”

“Because if I don’t now I may never get to. Don’t you see? Death is around every damn corner. I need to learn before I can’t.”

He let out a muttered swear, brushing his frizzy hair from his eyes. “Shit, Lydia. You shouldn’t think like that.”

“Maybe I should! I almost died last year. I want to know more before the next time. What’s life for if not learning everything you can?”

“There’s not gonna-” At the look on her face, he sighed again, cutting himself off. “I get it, okay? The desire to learn, I have that too. And you know I love books, but if you continue down this path, you’ll just slowly kill yourself. I’ll have to get McGinagall involved. Please, just lay off the books and get some sleep.”

Staring at the worry lines on Percy’s young face, Lydia couldn’t refuse. 

“Fine, but stay with me? Just for a little.”

He gave a soft smile. “I can’t go in your dorm, Lydia.”

“I don’t wanna be alone,” she whispered, feeling like a child. “Please, Percy.”

Sighing, he brought her to rest with her head in his lap. “Alright, rest. I’ll wake you in the morning. You’ve got about three hours.”

* * *

Lydia sighed as she sat in the still sweltering September heat. Despite her reassurances she didn’t mind meeting in the library, her study group now let outside by the lake. 

It was Terry’s idea, and though Padma didn’t like her parchment getting splashed by the lake’s water, she admitted she enjoyed the fresh air. 

The three Ravenclaw had gone inside nearly half an hour ago, but Lydia had stayed out to watch the few students killing about. She had just decided to venture down to Hagrid’s hut when she saw a flash of orange. 

It was by the castle, and she could tell even from so far away that it was Crookshanks, Hermione’s cat. Knowing Hermione would assume Ron had done something, and thus prolong their current fight, Lydia went to take the cat inside. 

It ran, the little shit. 

Jogging after him, she nearly fell when he abruptly stopped to look back at her. His eyes had always unnerved her, as if he knew more than she did. 

“Come on, Crookie. Let me take you back to the dorm. Crookshanks gave a low yowl, and continued to walk forward. 

She only realized where they were just before Crookshanks went in. 

The Whomping Willow. 

_Shit._

“Crookshanks, no! It’s dangerous!”

Crookshanks did not care for her shouts. He simply walked underneath the flailing branches, and pressed his paw to a knot in the trunk. 

The branches stopped flailing.

Lydia felt her jaw drop, and hurried to close her mouth. 

Crookshanks looked at her as if to say, _‘Coming or not, little girl?’_

Lydia was a Gryffindor, damn it, so she followed. 

Crookshanks padded quickly through the dirty tunnel, but it was much more difficult for Lydia. Not only did she have a constantly aching back, she was freakishly tall, meaning she kept bumping her head on the ceiling. The dirt and what looked to be wood chips kept sticking to her bare knees, and she cursed whomever invented the uniform skirt.

Just when she thought her knees would give out, the overly long tunnel came to a stop. She had to pry open what looked like a wooden doggy door, and she came upon...something.

It seemed to be a lounge of sorts, the kind you walk into upon entering a house. That is, it looked like it might have been trendy if it were twenty years earlier. Now though, the furniture looked over the top. What furniture she could see, anyway. There was a leather couch, marred by claw marks. There was stuffing coming out from what had to be chunks bitten out, and bugs - both dead and alive - littered the thing. Over by the winding staircase, sat a bookshelf. It, too, was covered in scratch and bite marks, and what had to be old blood stained the sides. There were no books, and if she indulged the imaginative part of her mind, Lydia would think the furniture had been set here purely to be destroyed. That brought to question, _whose house was this? A professor’s perhaps?_

She was tempted to climb the stairs to explore further - again, she _is_ a Gryffindor - but Lydia was tired and needed a rest. So, she unwrapped her teal jacket from around her waist and dropped it neatly onto the dirty and peeling wood flooring just underneath the stairs. She didn’t bother with cleaning the cobwebs from above her head, merely twitching her nose in disgust and pulling out a book.

She sat there for a good time, enjoying the silence save for Crookshanks’ purring as she pet him, until Crookshanks started meowing at her and glancing at the exit. Sighing, “Fine, fine. But we’re coming back soon.”

She did stop to wonder if being here was allowed, but she figured if she didn’t get caught it wouldn’t matter. What the professors didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loves! Okay, I hope you enjoyed this one. I’ve started another part of the series, if you go to the series page you’ll find it titled “little scenes” I added one that goes with this chapter, so check it out! I’m really excited for it.  
> Anyway, let me know what you think! I love your comments!
> 
> next week: Lydia deals with a boggart, but it isn’t a mummy or a banshee. 
> 
> word count: 2084


	3. The Riddikulus Boggart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, that.”  
>  “Yes, I-”  
>  “Professor, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t understand why you’re worried. Boggarts are meant to be scary. That was the lesson’s point, wasn’t it? Have us face our fears.”  
>  “Yes, but… Lydia, you are a thirteen year old girl. That was not the fear of most thirteen year old girls.”  
>  “Well, I’m not most thirteen year old girls.”  
> \- - - - - - - - - -  
> Or, Lydia’s boggart disturbs everyone but her, and Professor Lupin was left out of his depth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel the need to give a TW for what Lydia sees during the Boggart. Basically, there’s semi harsh language towards Lydia from an adult, and implications of abuse.

Lydia didn’t have an idea of what her Boggart might be when she walked into her first Defense lesson of the year, but in retrospect she really should have known. 

Stepping up after Padma’s giant snake turned jack-in-the-box, Lydia stared in horror. 

Her grandmother was staring down at her with her arm poised to strike, a snarl on her face. “Granddaughter, you naive little thing.”

“W-what?” She didn’t back up, she never did. But her feet twitched with the impulse to do so.

“You think they  _ like  _ you? None of them do! Not those twins-” She swallowed back the whimper at that. The twins liked her, they had to!

Professor Lupin called, “The spell, Lydia!”

“You are meant to be used, you useless little bitch-” Someone gasped.

“Lydia,  _ the spell! _ ” The professor’s voice was slightly more urgent now, and in the back of her mind, she noticed a few of her classmates had stepped backwards at the spit coming from her grandmother’s mouth. They were right to do so.

Lydia gasped when her grandmother reached for her neck, and she whispered, “Riddikulus!”

Her grandmother’s mouth dissolved into dust, falling into a trash bin. Lydia gave a strained laugh, then walked swiftly out the door. She didn’t hear Professor Lupin say anything else, because she had not given him the chance.

She was only given a few minutes of peace, tucked away in an empty classroom, because Hermione, Ron, and Harry had found her. 

The boys lingered in the doorway, but Hermione came to stand in front of Lydia, her arms crossed over her chest expectantly. A gold chain poked out of her shirt at the motion. 

Lydia raised her eyebrow. “What?”

“ _ What?  _ What, she says!”

Leaning back on her arms where she sat on a desk, Lydia sighed. 

“Lydia, you’re going to sit here and ask me why I’m horrified after that, that-”

“That hag called you a useless little bitch?” Ron quoted, looking uncomfortable but angry. Lydia didn’t bother trying to guess why.

Hermione nodded in his direction. 

“Er, that hag is my grandmother.”

“Your  _ grandmother  _ speaks to you like that?”

Giving a shrug, Lydia wished she was anywhere else. Like lunch, sandwiched between the twins. Yes, that would be preferable.

“You didn’t see the worst of it. Why are we even doing this? It’s a boggart, meant to be scary.”

Hermione gave an angry shriek and left, the boys following her. Harry sent a sad look in her direction. 

Lydia sighed, kicking her feet against the metal desk legs. 

A shadow appeared in front of her. 

“Hey.”

She looked up with a weak smile. “Hey.”

“Does your gran really talk to you like that?”

A nod. 

“Well, she’s stupid.” Neville, who never had anything mean to say about anything, had such venom in his voice she flinched.

Lydia was quick to shut her gaping mouth. “Oh, come on, Nev. Everyone’s grandparents talk like that.” She ignored that her grandfather never had, and the voice saying she knew it was wrong. 

“Nah, they shouldn’t. The twins and I really like you, you know? And we like you because you’re nice and funny and brilliant and just a little scary. Not because of the things you can do. Hell, I don’t even know all your tricks yet.”

Lydia fidgeted under his gaze. 

Neville took pity. “What do you say to lunch outside? I bet Rosy’ll bring it out. We can even find Luna and Ginny, I’ll bet.”

She let him take her hand as she slid from the wooden desk. “Can I have your pasta?”

“Only if I can have your meatballs.”

She should have known the subject wouldn’t be dropped that easily. It was simple to ignore the few looks she got, because those had died down after a few days. Her friends respected her need for privacy, and so hadn’t brought up the subject either. But she hadn’t expected her professor to mention it. She should have.

Just a week after what she had dubbed the Ridiculous Boggart Incident, a pun she was very proud of, she was walking the corridors on a cold Saturday morning. Most everyone her year and above were in Hogsmeade, but she had elected to stay inside since the chill outside would hurt her back more than usual and she didn’t feel like dealing with it. She had been making the walk from the very bottom floor to the top, and was passing by Professor Lupin’s office when he called her name. 

“Lydia!”

She was tempted to continue walking as if she hadn’t heard, but he said a second time, “Miss McBrien! In here if you please.”

Sighing to herself and sticking her wand in the back of one of her old trainers, she opened the door fully. 

“You shouted for me, sir?”

He gave her a slightly sheepish grin. “I wasn’t sure you’d hear me. You seem very in your head this morning.”

She hummed. “Anything I can do for you? Perhaps make you a coffee rather than that tea? I know they say you Brits have no taste, but I was hoping to be proved wrong.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re British.”

“No, though I guess I’ve got dual citizenship in Ireland.”

“So...would you like some tea?”

She snorted. “No, haven’t got the taste for it. It tastes like the liquid left in my cat’s tuna dish.”

He spluttered for a minute, before reaching into his desk drawer. “Chocolate? Or do you dislike all good things?”

“You keep chocolate in your desk?” She grinned slightly at his flush. Held her palm out, ‘Yeah, I'll take some.”

“I’ve always believed chocolate is a magic all its own.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll believe that.” She giggled and sat in the chair when directed. Professor Lupin seemed to be psyching himself up for something.

“Lydia, I feel the need to talk with you about our last lesson.”

She found herself blushing. “I know my reaction time was way off, I’ll work on it. I’m usually much better with my spellwork.”

“While your reaction time could have been better, that’s not what I meant. You did the spell itself very well, and many of your other professors have told me how studious you are. I’m concerned about your Boggart itself.”

“Oh,  _ that _ .”

“Yes, I-”

“Professor, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t understand why you’re worried. Boggarts are meant to be scary. That was the lesson’s point, wasn’t it? Have us face our fears.”

“Yes, but… Lydia, you are a thirteen year old girl. After hearing about what you went through last year, I assumed the Boggart would take a different form. Instead I find you facing down an old woman screaming insults at you that no child should hear, and instead of shock, what did I see on your face?” He didn’t give her time to answer. “You looked resigned to it, and your eyes were trained entirely on her hand, which if I’m not mistaken, was poised to hit. That is not the fear of most thirteen year olds.”

“Well, I’m not most thirteen year old girls, Professor. After all, I hang out with the twins.” Her joke failed. 

She gave a deep sigh through her nose. What he had said has honestly shaken her. “Professor, I no longer see that woman on a regular basis. She lives in the States, and I’ve lived here for quite some time. The Boggart was simply a combination of old memories I revisit sometimes.”

“Are you saying you know this woman? That this woman has said those things before?”

“That was rather tame for Gran actually, but yes. She’s quite unpleasant. You needn’t sorry, Professor, I’m safe here.”

He blinked in surprise. “And yet, I do worry. If you come across this woman again, will you need to worry for your well being?”

“Oh hell yes.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, yes, sir. But, again, she’s across the pond. I live here. It’s all good.”

He gave a sigh, obviously thinking it was not all good, and pinched the bridge of his thin nose. It looked broken. “Alright. As long as you are safe, I will reign in my worrying. Did your parents move here recently?”

“Kind of. My dad’s still in the States. He stayed there, along with the rest of my family. They didn’t wanna leave the family business. But I live with my mom and grandfather in Sligo, and have since I was around eight.”

She swung her legs, wanting to leave the awkward conversation. Why did Professor Lupin have to worry? She was fine. Yes, her nightmares had started involving her grandmother and the basilisk since the Boggart, but she was fine. Just peachy. She totally wasn’t looking over her shoulder more than normal. Paranoia was normal, dammit!

The professor seemed to notice this. “Alright, go enjoy your day, Lydia. If you need anything…”

“Thank you for the chocolate and concern, Professor. See you.”

She couldn’t help but wonder what the steaming vial on his desk had been. It spelled putrid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you enjoy the pun in the title, Loves? The other idea was “The Boggart’s A Hag!” But I decided on this one. Another scene put in “little scenes” loves! I thought of this one while writing this chapter up, I hope you like it :)  
>  Also, can we talk about how flabbergasted Lupin was towards Lydia? I loved writing that, I think it’s going to be a common theme between them. (Yes, they will interact more after he leaves!)
> 
> Next Week: Neville has a realization, and Lydia learns about mental health. 
> 
> words: 1512


	4. Happy Juice (Thanks Maurice)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s got you upset, Lyds?”  
> “Maurice is a dick.”  
> Her friends frowned at her.  
> “Who’s Maurice?”  
> “A dick.”
> 
> \----------
> 
> Lydia hates Maurice, and his damn “happy juice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna put a tw for a panic attack, and discussions about that. There will be line breaks, but I’ll put a little * by where I think you need to watch out. Be safe!
> 
> oh, and there’s a couple different POVs. as usual, the line breaks (without the *) will signal it.

The term was only ten days in when Lydia’s first bad pain spell hit. The term she used still made her smile a bit, despite the aching spreading quickly throughout her body. When she was much younger, when it had all first begun, she had read a story about evil witches using magic, and had decided that’s what had happened to her. She couldn’t use the term around any of her friends though, because the only time she had, George thought she had been cursed with some kind of Dark Magic.

Nevertheless, she was angry that she’d been barely given a full week of lessons before it hit this term. She was determined to go to all her lessons today, so she rolled herself off the bed, grabbing onto the curtains to balance herself on her feet. Then, holding onto her wardrobe while she got dressed and fed Stoner, she took a breath.

“I’ve got this. I have three lessons before lunch, and then I’ve got a free period. I’ll rest then.”

Glaring at her feet, she begged them to work.

And they did…until she was halfway down the staircase, where her knees gave out completely, sending her flying towards the common room’s floor.

Looking up from the red carpet, she groaned. The few early risers paid her no mind. Her legs felt completely numb, and she resigned herself to lying here until someone she knew woke up and came down for breakfast. 

“Oh dear god!” Someone gaped, and when Lydia looked up from her book, _Catcher In the Rye_ , she spotted Katie’s mismatched socks. “What bloody happened?”

Lydia sighed. “My legs are little cowards.”

Katie blinked, then sat in front of her. Alicia followed.

“What are you two doing?” Lydia asked, setting her book on the ground.

“Well, we’re going to sit here and you’re going to firstly, explain, and then tell us how to help.”

Lydia frowned at Alicia. “Explain what?”

“What do you mean your legs are cowards?”

Lydia braced her hands on the floor, then stood. Within ten seconds, she was on the ground gagain, her legs crumpled beneath her. “That.”

“That...should not be happening.”

Alicia nudged her friend. “Astute observation, Katie.”

Katie nudged the older girl. “Shush.” Turning to Lydia, “Need help to the hospital wing?”

“No way, I’m going to lessons.”

“Ha, no you’re not.”

Lydia stared in indignation. “Excuse me?!”

“I believe,” Alicia said, patting Lydia’s still numb legs, “The phrase is ‘thank you, Alicia and Katie, you’re so gracious for offering your help.’ Am I right?”

Lydia gave a roll of her eyes. “Fine. But if I’m not out by the end of second hour you’d better come break me out.” She paused, then said, “I’ll need you to help me up.”

The girls nodded, then Alicia said, “Grab her legs, Kate.”

Katie took hold of her legs and she was lifted into the air, before being promptly dropped as Alicia’s hand slipped.

“Wait that’s - ah! - not what I meant!” Lydia exclaimed.

“Well what do you expect? You’re too tall and can’t walk. We’re carrying you.”

As the three made their way from the seventh floor to the first, nearly everyone up stared at them. Perhaps it was because Lydia was being carried like firewood, or maybe it was because her shoe had fallen off on the fourth floor and none of the three had noticed. 

Katie kicked the door open when they finally got to the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey sighed sympathetically at them. 

“Oh, goodness. Bad this morning?” She gestured to Alicia and Katie, and they deposited Lydia in the woman’s arms. Somehow, she didn’t even buckle under the weight.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Lydia made a pout. “I made it half down the stairs when my knees gave up like the cowards they are, and I fell. Then I laid there until Katie and Alicia came down. And when I was getting dressed I had to hold onto my wardrobe. Oh! I almost forgot, but when I bent over to feed my cat, my eyes went kinda wonky like I was telling you last week.”

Madam Pomfrey made a tutting noise with her tongue. “Okay, let’s see if we can’t get you fixed up before lessons, hm? Thank you, Miss Spinnet and Miss Bell. Get your breakfast and keep those Weasleys out of my hospital wing, won’t you?”

The two Gryffindors giggled as they left, leaving Madam Pomfrey to do what she did best.

* * *

*  
Parvati Patil could be easily shaken, that was true. She thought Fay’s toad was terrifying, and flobberworms scared her. Lightning scared her, even. But she felt her reaction to seeing Lydia McBrien sitting in their shared showers fully clothed, sobbing and shaking like she had hypothermia was a suitable one. (She had screamed.)

Even so, she could set her fear and confusion aside for the moment. Crouching beside her, Parvati asked, “Lydia, what’s wrong?”

Lydia brought a hand to her throat, and pulled at the skin. “I-I can’t-” she broke off, and continued to sob. It was quiet, and pitiful.

Parvati was very confused. “Is it your breathing?”

A nod. 

She had never seen something like this. She desperately wanted to just leave and hope Lydia figured it out on her own, but Parvati had not been raised that way. Her Amma had raised her to be kind. So, she took hold of Lydia’s hand.

“Lydia, squeeze my hand if you need help.”

A tight squeeze. Parvati winced.

“Squeeze if you want one of your friends.”

A hesitant squeeze, so gentle Parvati almost didn’t feel. 

“Squeeze if you’ll be okay alone for a few minutes.”

Another squeeze. 

Parvati rose to her feet again, let go of Lydia, and shook the water from her hands.

She didn’t know of anyone in Gryffindor tower that was not a boy and was also Lydia’s friend, so she went for the next best thing: The Weasley’s little sister. 

She raced down the stairs from the third year to second year girls’ dorm, and knocked once on the door before opening it.

She glanced around the room, and found it empty save for a small bundle of blankets in the farthest bed. She walked to it, determined.

“Ginny Weasley?”

The girl looked up. She had been reading. “Yes. who are you?”

“I need your help.”

Ginny slowly got to her feet. “What is it?”

Parvati took her hand, and began leading her back to Parvati’s own dorm. “Lydia McBrien needs help, but obviously since most of her friends are boys or not Gryffindor, they couldn’t get in the dorm quick enough. There's something wrong with her, and she needs a friend. You were the closest I thought of.”

Ginny quickened her pace. “What happened?”

“She says she can’t breathe, and she’s crying. Oh, and for some reason she’s sitting in the shower while it runs. Fully clothed.”

Ginny entered the dorm without so much as a glance at Parvati, and both girls went where Lydia had been.

The girl was now lying on her back, the shower’s stream hitting her face.

Ginny sat down beside her, seemingly unfazed by the water quickly soaking her shirt. “Lydia, it’s Ginny. Can you breathe now?”

Lydia shook her head, hand still tugging at her throat. In truth, she seemed to be hyperventilating.

Ginny placed Lydia’s hand on her own neck, taking breaths. “Copy me.” Her voice was commanding, but still quiet. It was odd, a Weasley being quiet.

When Lydia looked away, Ginny looked at Parvati. “Get McGonagall, will you?”

Parvati slipped out the door.

Lydia was exhausted. She had no idea what was wrong with her, but it had been terrifying. She hadn’t even protested when Professor McGonagall took her down to the hospital wing. 

Now here she was, sitting on a bed with the covers pooled around her ankles, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the man she did not know. He had come in an hour after she’d gotten there, and neither Professor McGonagall nor Madam Pomfrey had introduced him.

The man had introduced himself as Maurice Dovetail, and told her to call him Maury. She had not. 

The entire hour he had been speaking to her, it was to ask her questions. Had she been sleeping well, was she angry too often, did she have nightmares, was she eating enough. The list went on. And in that entire time, she had answered nothing.

“Why are you asking me all this? Why are you here? Won’t someone tell me what’s going on?!” When she had finally snapped, he looked at her in satisfaction.

“I wondered how long it would take. I’ll give you a point, Lydia. Most people your age would have snapped an hour ago.”

She stared at him. 

Madam Pomfrey spoke. “Maurice is here because what you experienced earlier is called a panic attack. I asked him to help me explain it to you, and how we can help in the future.”

Lydia crossed her arms over her knees. “What’s a panic attack?”

“In layman's terms, a panic attack is when your brain thinks there is danger, and it gives you physical symptoms of fear, for example the tightness in your chest, and the lack of breath. Of course, there are non-physical symptoms as well.”

She scoffed. “You’re telling me I got _scared_ and my brain decided to make a fool of itself?” She said it with such derision both adults winced.

Madam Pomfrey sighed and sat on the bed. “Lydia, please work with us. You don’t want to experience that again, do you?”

Begrudgingly, Lydia agreed. “No, I don’t.”

Maurice clapped his hands. “Alright, next time-”

“What do you mean, next time? Can’t you just fix me?”

Madam Pomfrey smiled at her pityingly. “There is no fix.”

“But that’s what you do! You fix me up. So just, fix me!”

The two adults shared looks. Then, Maurice said, “We can’t fix you because you’re not broken. This is just an obstacle you’ll pass.”

Lydia muttered something that sounded like, “Real cliche, buddy.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed, and pinched her nose.

Observing her Lydia could tell she was overly stressed. And that, more than anything else Maurice had said, made her want to listen. “Okay,” she sighed, “What do I gotta do?”

Smiling, Maurice said, “You and I will meet once a month. Today’s the tenth, so every month on the tenth we’ll meet and talk about how you’re feeling. Excluding the months you’re away from school, of course.”

Lydia nodded, even though she didn’t like the idea of seeing him more. Maurice wasn’t awful, and he hadn’t done anything to make her hate him, but she did.

He went on, “I’m going to prescribe you a potion. From what I’ve noticed, you seem to have depressive thoughts. This potion should stop those. Call it your...happy juice. Anyway, just take one a day, with breakfast. You can meet with Madam Pomfrey in a week to see how they’re working.”

Lydia nodded, not really caring. He handed her the potion bottle, and she downed it in one go. It tasted like a handful of pepper.

*

* * *

She didn’t bother concealing her scowl when she left the hospital wing and sat down between the twins for dinner. 

“What’s got you upset, Lyds?”

She looked up at Lee, who had Luna’s head on his shoulder. She didn’t bother wondering why. “Maurice is a dick.”

Her friends frowned at her.

“Who’s Maurice?” Neville asked, sitting between Angelina and Oliver.

“A dick.”

Luna gasped cutely. “Oh, I know what we’ll do! We’ll have a sleepover!”

Lydia couldn’t help but smile at her younger friend. “Really?”

“Oh, yes!” Then, shouting down the table, “Ginny Weasley! You’re going to sleep with us!”  
The twins stifled a giggle. 

Lydia nudged them both in the ribs. “Shut up, peabrains.”

Ginny was very red at the other end of the table, but she gave them a thumbs up.

* * *

It was slightly awkward. Well, for Ginny and Lydia, it was. Luna had skipped right from strangers to best friends. It had been terribly silent and awkward for the first few minutes, until Luna said, “I personally would have colored my hippogriff purple, but I suppose your brown one is okay, Ginny.”

That had led to them coloring the most outlandish creatures they could think of until they grew bored. Then, Lydia had introduced the two to Muggle music. (Luna especially liked Alice Cooper.) As Luna grew sleepy, Nirvana playing in the background, she asked, “How do you think we’d get Neville up here?”

They had then discussed theories on how to get him past the dorm’s spells, to varying degrees of practicality.

(“I think we should levitate him. It’s like a tripwire, isn’t it?” “LET’S TRANSFIGURE HIS BITS!” “Merlin, Ginny, no!”)

After Luna was sound asleep, and the other girls in the dorm were quiet, Ginny turned on her side to face Lydia. 

“Lydia?”

Pushing her face off Luna’s sequin pillow, “Yeah, Gin?”

“How come you’re so nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re thick!” Ginny exclaimed, glancing to make sure Luna hadn’t woken. “I almost killed you last year.”

“Nah.”

“Nah?! You can’t say nah!”

Lydia was smirking. “...Nah.”

Ginny groaned. “Lydia, be serious.”

“Okay,” Lydia gave a deep sigh. “I’m nice to you because you weren’t yourself last year, and I’d like to get to know Ginny Weasley.”

“We talked last year.”

“I’m withholding my judging for now. You weren’t Ginny last year.”

“Who was I then?”

Lydia watched her for a moment. “Someone that doesn’t exist anymore. You’re twelve. You can be whoever you want to be. So, who’s that?”

Then Lydia turned over to wrap an arm around Luna, and Ginny was left to wonder: _Who was Ginny Weasley?_

* * *

Neville Longbottom has never quite understood the excitement his peers had about girls. Dean had gone on and on about the girls and blokes he fancied (and there were a lot!) in the past year, Ron was obviously conflicted about his feelings for Hermione, and anyone with eyes would have walked in on seventh and sixth years in an abandoned classroom at least once in their Hogwarts career. 

Neville, however, had never seen the big deal. According to his Gran that was a good thing, because he didn't need “that ridiculous distraction” from school. 

He couldn’t help feeling slightly left out, though. He had wondered if he ever would feel it, but then immediately decided, after seeing two girls sobbing over their exes, if he never did it wouldn’t matter. He had friends, and that’s more than he thought he’d get. 

That was until just yesterday. 

Having been used to sitting with the Gryffindor Quidditch team, he knew to expect most anything. So, when Luna began sitting with them while Lydia was petrified, he hadn’t thought anything of it. There was no reason to trying to decipher Luna’s intentions, because they were always good. 

The Quidditch team didn’t seem to mind either, and Lee had only said, “We got another one to look after, then?” And piled porridge in front of her. 

This year Lydia had been back with them, but Luna stayed. Then, just this morning, Ginny Weasley had sat down across from him.

Lydia had practically dragged her over, made her sit, then glared at them all as if to deny the girl. 

Privately, Neville thought there wasn’t anything he’d want to do less. Ginny was kind, and she looked too tired for a twelve year old. Something protective roared within Neville to protect her. 

(Lydia seemed to have the instinct too, because just after breakfast, he had seen the two standing in an alcove just outside the Great Hall. 

Lydia had her hands planted firmly on the younger's shoulders. Her face was determined. 

“What have I told you?”

“A lot of crap.”

A shove. “Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna pull your shoulders back, and hold your head up. Act like the confident girl you are. You are fucking awesome, you’re smart, and kind, and adorable. Nobody blames or even knows what happened last year was you. And if they care?”

Ginny sighed, and in a voice that showed how recited it was, said, “Fuck them and their grandmother’s.”

Lydia nodded, then shoved her into the crowd. Turned to Neville, “Come on, we’ve got double potions.”)

Anyway, Neville felt something in him soften towards Lydia. A part of him _admired_ her. It was no secret Lydia wouldn’t be kind unless she wanted. The girl was terrifying sometimes, and if she didn’t want to do something, she wouldn’t. Neville didn’t understand a lot, but he knew Lydia hadn’t been given many choices in her young life. He wouldn’t blame her for choosing things now. 

But she had chosen to be kind to him. _She_ had chosen _him!_

Perhaps that was why, when Luna told him Lydia he aced a particularly hard Charms quiz, he had immediately decided to get her flowers as a congratulations. 

“Lydia, can I have a mo?”

She looked up from where she was glaring at a cheese toastie. A bad nausea day, likely. “I’ve always got a moment for you, Nev. Sit down.”

Neville sat on the arm of the chair she was sitting in. Like all others in the Gryffindor common room, it was red. 

“Did Rosy bring you that?”

“No, Rosy brought me apple slices. Penny, Professor Flitwick’s elf brought me this.”

“How many elves have you got looking after you?”

She laughed, the sound bright. “Hell if I know. I suspect Madam Pomfrey’s got one tailing me to make sure I eat.”

Neville chuckled at the image. 

“So, what did you need? Is someone bothering you?”

The way her eyes hardened at the idea made his skin feel warm. Odd. “No, I’m alright. I heard you aced that Charms quiz.”

She smiled. “I did! It was hard, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was. I definitely got a P. Maybe even a T.”

She pouted. “You got at least an O! I swear it.”

Neville flushed at the praise, as he always did. “Uh, anyway. I got you these to congratulate you.” He pulled out a small crown of violet hydrangeas. He had weaved them together earlier, the process only taking a few minutes, since he had become so practiced at it. 

She beamed at him, her tongue poking out between the middle of her two front teeth. “You didn’t have to do that! Thank you, Nev.”

He held it out. “May I?”

She nodded. 

Carefully, he placed the crown atop her head, tucking the end of two stems in each side of her hair. It didn’t work as well as if she had been wearing plaits, but it would stay. 

“Done.”

She transfigured her quill into a handheld mirror after just two tries, and looked at herself. 

Softly, “It’s pretty, thank you.”

 _You’re pretty_. He said inside his head. 

His thoughts stopped. 

Bloody hell, he thought she was pretty!

Neville Longbottom, “late bloomer”, had his first crush. 

_Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Loves! I can’t believe how far we are into the series already, it feels unreal. Though there will be a time skip, there’s still 7 more chapters, so get excited!
> 
> Next Week: Lydia almost gives Professor Lupin a heart attack.
> 
> words: 3160 (lol I had a lot to say)


	5. I Am Gonna Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “THEY’RE GOING TO MOVE YOUR SPINE.”  
> “I know.”  
> “THEY COULD TOUCH YOUR ORGANS!”  
> “Yes.”  
> He was still hugging her tight. “AND YOU’RE GONNA BE KNOCKED OUT.”  
> “That I am.”  
> “HOW ARE YOU OKAY WITH THAT?”
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -
> 
> In which Lydia leaves to get fixed up, and Neville is freaking  
> out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry I couldn’t resist the title lmao. Umm, I’m not sure if this needs a TW, but there’s non-graphic talk about medical stuff, like spines and organs. But again, non-graphic.

The rest of the month passed quickly, with Lydia and her study group meeting twice in the next two weeks, having another sleepover with Ginny and Luna, and spending time trying to soak up all she could from her lessons. She knew catching up when she returned would suck. But she couldn’t do her work from home, so that’s all she could do. She wondered what it was like to have a normal life. 

Lydia wasn’t excited about leaving Hogwarts. To be fair, not much made her excited since taking those potions. But she was especially not excited about leaving. 

Not only would she be without her friends and lessons, she would be getting her skin sliced and her spine rearranged. By a complete stranger, has she mentioned?

So yeah, not excited. 

Currently, she was soaking up what little time she had left on the grounds. Inside the shack, a place she had found herself coming frequently to get away when she was too drained to socialize, everything was calm. She didn’t have to think. Crookshanks was in her lap as was usual, and he was purring. Stoner was with them as well, the cats practically hugging with how close they were. It was, quite honestly, the cutest thing Lydia had ever seen. 

The door creaked. 

Lydia only spared it a glance. “Hello, Professor.”

“L-Lydia! What-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. I just wanted to get some peace before I left. Good luck tonight, by the way.”

“You know - what - I can’t -”

Yes, Lydia did know her professor was a werewolf. She also didn’t give a shit, because she could easily kill someone with the ~~people opener~~ knife she carried around, and no one cared about that. Hell, she could kill someone with a first year spell, they all could! Besides, she was dangerous all month long, Professor Lupin only was one day(ish) of it. 

She smiles. “I just wanted to see the shack one last time before I left. It can be so peaceful.” 

“I’ve never found it peaceful,” He snorted, then, “You're leaving?” He seemed to have forgotten in his confusion. 

She knew the professors had been told, because she’d had to explain it to several of them who didn’t understand, and Snape had been acting as if she was being given special treatment. She had started to be called ‘Gryffindor’s Princess’ after the second potions lessons where he had asked if she needed to sit down or if she could stand on her own. 

Lydia had told him to “grow the fuck up and be an adult”, earning a week of detentions. She didn’t care. The entire Gryffindor table, save for a few (Hermione), had high fived her. The twins had made her a lemon tart bigger than her face. 

“I’m having surgery.”

“Right…” He shook his head as if to clear it. It made him look slightly like a dog, and wasn’t that a funny thought? “The Headmaster told me. Good luck, I suppose.”

“I don’t think there’s much luck with being sliced open, but thanks for the sentiment.”

She stood, slinging her bag over one shoulder and cradling Stoner with the other. 

Her professor was still blinking in confusion when she left through the tunnel. 

The walk was hard on her back, and left her gasping for breath as it felt like her lungs were crushed. She knew from the x-rays that they were actively being crushed by her spine, but it didn’t look nearly as bad as it felt. She also knew her hump was noticeable thanks to Malfoy and Parkinson. Thanks, you two!

She barely made it to the steps leading inside when Neville was suddenly running at her, face flushed red and looking panicked. 

Before he collided, Stoner jumped onto Lydia’s neck, curling around it. 

Neville was yelling. 

“THEY’RE GOING TO MOVE YOUR SPINE.”

“I know.”

“THEY COULD TOUCH YOUR ORGANS!”

“Yes.”

He was still hugging her tight. “AND YOU’RE GONNA BE KNOCKED OUT.”

“That I am.”

“HOW ARE YOU OKAY WITH THAT?”

“Because if it doesn’t get done, in a year’s time, my spine will slowly continue to push on my stomach and lungs until it either pops them or I just die completely.”

Neville pulled his face out of her neck. “OH.”

She placed a hand over his mouth. “Normal voice, Nev.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

She ignored it, and instead asked, “How much research did you just do?”

“Five books. Madam Pince had to look on the back shelves. Are they really gonna put you to sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“How do you wake up?”

She gave a one shoulder shrug. “Whenever I do, I guess.”

He looked panicked again. “What if you don’t! I need you to wake up!”

“I will.” She smiled, as if she didn’t care. 

“ _ Lydia, _ ” he whispered, and his eyes were full of tears. Cute. “I need you to wake up.”

She placed a gentle palm on his cheek. “Baby. I  _ will  _ wake up.”

She had refrained from using the term of endearment since Ron had assumed it meant she fancied anyone she said it to, but sometimes it slipped. It seemed to help though, so perhaps she would start using it more intentionally. 

He hugged her fiercely, and she didn’t pull away first, knowing he needed it. When he did pull away, she told him, “Owl me any questions. I’ll answer them when I wake up. And Nev, I promise I’ll come back to you. I’ll have one hell of a scar, but I’ll come back. When have you ever known me to give up?”

* * *

She made the walk to Hagrid’s, first stopping to say her goodbyes (again) to her friends, then Madam Pomfrey, then Professor Flitwick. Hagrid was waiting out front, but Fang bounded over and knocked her flat onto the ground. 

The feeling of her back hitting the ground drew a gasp from her, but she didn’t say anything. Soon, it would be fixed. She couldn’t stop herself from rubbing at the spots that hurt, though. 

Hagrid guided her to the train, which would be taking her to Kings Cross. 

It was empty, which was odd. Still, the trolley witch was there, so Lydia bought two chocolate frogs. 

“Would you like to sit with me, Ma’am? There’s no use in us both being lonely.”

The trolley witch smiled and sat opposite her. “Well, if we’re to spend the next hours together you should know my name. I’m Gloria Owlet.”

“I’m Lydia McBrien.”

“Oh, I know that.”

“How?”

Gloria gave a smile. “Why, I get to know every child that comes on this train.”

Lydia tilted her head. “There must be thousands.”

Gloria hummed. “Yes, but I like to think I make an impact. And you can’t very well make an impact if you don’t even know who you’re affecting, now can you?”

Lydia’s thought on that. She supposed it was true. “Yeah, I guess so.” A pause. “How come you do it?”

Gloria got a wistful smile on her face. “When I was young, my father did it. When I came to Hogwarts, I saw how he made sure the children weren’t hungry, that they were calm. He always spelled the chocolate with a calming draught, see.

And he would have my mother make sandwiches to add to the trolley. The Headmasters usually prefer the children to snack on candy, it tired them out when they crash, but my father. He never agreed. So he would sneak sandwiches to the children for free. And if they didn’t want one, why, he’d give them fruit. If they wanted candy they also had to eat something healthy. And he’d stand and watch them eat it!” 

Lydia laughed. 

“I try my best, of course, but it’s just me now. And I’m old, Lydia. I can’t make all this extra food. So I just try to limit the candy per child. But some years I wonder if it’s enough.”

Lydia frowned. “Couldn’t you ask for a house elf to do it? From the few I’ve met they get a kick out of it.”

“I’ve been trying to keep it away from the Headmaster's ears. I’m afraid he’d tell me to stop. Or, Morgana forbid, fire me.”

“What happens when you’re not here?”

Gloria smiles. “I travel. I go on other trains, feed other people. The Knight Bus though…” she shudders. “Never take on that job, Lydia. I did it for a day, and never again.”

“Is it that bad?”

“I swear it felt like I was being shaken like a can of soda!”

Lydia gave a laugh. “So where do you travel?”

“To see what’s left of my family. My brother has kids, so I visit occasionally. But they’re in Holland, so I don’t go often. Mostly I get on a train and just go where it does, then I get another. Trains...now that’s what I call home.”

Lydia way he’d Gloria as she spoke. The woman was nice, and clearly passionate. What Lydia didn’t know was how she made do with only having a job a few days a year.

“How did you even become the trolley witch?”

Gloria laughs. “Well, when the last one died, I asked for the job. Dumbledore didn’t want to look too long, said I was perfect for it. I suppose he was right, since it’s been nearly fifty years.”

“ _ Fifty?! _ ”

“Oh, yes. I look young, don’t I? It’s all the chocolate, I’ll tell you.”

Gloria looked down at a watch. “Ah! It’s lunchtime, Lydia. What kind of sandwich would you like? I made a batch up last night just for this.”

Lydia grinned. “Turkey and provolone?”

Gloria held one out, taking a ham for herself. “Let’s feast!”

* * *

Gloria had made sure she’d gotten to her grandfather before getting back on the train, which Lydia found very kind. 

The two had driven back to the flat in relative silence, listening to Johnny Cash on the radio. 

Once she had unpacked her few things into her room - having left the rest at the school since she certainly didn’t need a cauldron - her grandfather knocked. 

“Come on in, Grandfather.”

He opened her door and looked around, nodding in satisfaction that she hadn’t messed it up. She knew he came in and dusted when he missed her, which, at the sight of things, had been a lot. 

He sat down in her desk chair and smoothed out his trouser legs. 

He was nervous. 

“Grandfather?”

“You know I love you?”

She frowned. “Of course I do. What’s wrong?”

“Lydia,” he purses his lips. “I am very scared you will die.”

She blinked. “Oh. Well I’ll be okay.”

“Yes, but I want to be honest. I am scared, and angry with myself.”

“Why the fuck is that?” At his sharp look she corrected, “I mean, why ever?”

He sighed. “All your life, what have I told you?”

“Uh-”

“I have taught you that if you are careful, and prepared, you will be safe. I told you that no one would ever be able to fully protect you, so to protect yourself.”

“I’ve avoided a lot of pain that way, Grandfather. You weren’t wrong.”

“But I was. No one could have stopped this. Your spine curving...we couldn’t have stopped it. And I know I could never have protected you from this, but yet…” He raised his hands. “I am a hypocrite.”

She smiled. “Maybe a little. But you also taught me second chances weren’t allowed. So, we just have to accept that there wasn’t a chance I would not have had this happen. Nothing any of us did could have caused this. And that’s that.”

He sighed heavily. “Goddamnit, sometimes I regret reaching you so young. I feel as if I fucked you up. I wish you could have the innocence still.”

She shook her head. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be in the States with Dad, either a weapon or an example. I’m glad I am here. Even if it means I don’t have much innocence.”

He reached forward and hugged her tight. 

“I am so proud of you, Lydia Beth.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Grandfather.”

“Now get to the dinner table, we have an early morning tomorrow.”

Right. Tomorrow was the day. 

Lydia really really wished she was at Hogwarts right now. She wound take mass murderer Black over this any day. Did that say something about her, that she’d rather face a murderer than a hospital?

Perhaps Grandfather was right, and she was fucked up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loves, just a reminder that I have a tumblr (wizardrywilting) for this series, where I’m working on posting more. Let me know what you want to see on there. I rent a little about the series already and expand on the characters there, but I want you to enjoy it!
> 
> I want to explain a little bit about this plot point.  
> •First, this is drawn right from my life! I haven’t made it as big a presence for Lydia as it was for me, because she has magic, which means less pain lol. Also didn’t write it in because I couldn’t figure out how without it being obvious, if that makes sense.  
> •So, in case you don’t get what’s wrong, it’s scoliosis. And yes, mine was really this severe, and yes you can die from it! Very scary!  
> •If you’re thinking Lydia is too calm about going into surgery, let me tell you I was similar. In the months leading up to it, I was not scared. I was just relieved to not be in pain. Everyone around me, however? Freaking the fuck out. I was not scared until I was on the operating table, and I had a panic attack. My anesthesiologist was so kind though, she was honestly a MVP.  
> •Finally, Lydia isn’t going to be fixed immediately because that’s not how it works. I’m almost 2 years post-op (yay) and i’m still struggling. So, Lydia will be too. She has magic, but it’s still an intensive surgery. She’s also gonna have mental shit from it. Again, I’m making it realistic. Please stay tuned, this ain’t the main focal point if you don’t like it.  
> Oh, and this is pretty much the only chapter that focuses heavily on it. Any other time it’s mentioned it will be a small detail. So if you’re triggered by medical stuff, don’t worry! If you need to skip the chapter (or any honestly) just ask and I’ll sum the thing up. 
> 
> Next Week: a new (canon)character is introduced!!!
> 
> words: 2089


	6. Colin Creevey and His Camera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Merlin, how many are we going to collect?”  
>  “Hush, Oli. The twins’ve picked up ducklings, and as their sisters and brothers in Quidditch we’ll take care of them.”
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - - -
> 
> The Quidditch team find yet another kid to be protective over, thanks to the twins. Really, when Lydia became one of them they should have known there’d be more.

Colin Creevey hadn’t met Lydia McBrien in person, but from what he’d heard, she seemed very scary. She also seemed very nice! Colin was conflicted. 

Ginny Weasley was kind though, he knew that firsthand. A few days into October, the girl had marched up to him during Herbology, and told him, “You’re my friend now. Sit with me at dinner.”

So, he had sat with her. He heard you shouldn’t mess with Weasleys. But it wasn’t just Ginny that had pulled him into a conversation. A blonde girl named Luna had asked him what he thought of the Sapphire-Tailed Dromedary. Then a blond boy named Neville had given him a sunflower. 

They sat with the Quidditch team, which Colin didn’t know was even allowed, who were all very nice. A boy named Oliver had asked, “Merlin, how many are we going to collect?”

And a girl named Angelina had flicked peas at him. “Hush, Oli. The twins’ve picked up ducklings, and as their sisters and brothers in Quidditch we’ll take care of them. Creevey, how do you feel about flying on a broom?”

That was that, really. Ginny sat with Colin in all their lessons together, as did Luna, and at mealtimes Colin day with the Quidditch team. Neville even stood up for Colin against Malfoy’s goons! 

But Colin knew the group’s vibe was wrong. All his friends acted slightly off, and he thought he knew why. 

Lydia McBrien was gone. And her friends, whether they (or she) knew it or not, they all missed her terribly. They depended on her, even. 

Neville, when they were outside, picked flowers and held them out to the air beside him, only to sigh in disappointment when there was no ear to tuck them behind. When he came running into the common room, a well graded assignment in his fist, he would call out for Lydia, then sag and go up to his dorm sadly. Even at breakfast! Neville would load up a bowl of porridge with bananas and blueberries, then set it to the empty seat next to him, sighing and feeding the entire thing to Trevor when Lydia wasn’t there to eat it. Neville hated blueberries, but Lydia wouldn’t have her porridge without them. 

Luna kept making an extra flower crown, and when it was time to go to bed, she looked around as if Lydia were about to invite her to the Gryffindor dorm. (Ginny always ended up doing it in Lydia’s place, but that’s not the point.)

Ginny, whenever she got anxious, would look around for Lydia. When she didn’t find her, she always whispered, “Shoulders back, head up. Fuck their grandmothers.” And would then go back into the fray. Colin wasn’t completely sure what the phrase meant, but it seemed to give Ginny courage, so he didn’t ask. 

The twins scared Colin when Lydia was around, but without Lydia there? Colin was just sad. 

They still pulled pranks, they always would after all, but they wouldn’t play them on anyone resembling Lydia. (When people realized that, nearly half the population of Hogwarts had changed their appearance to match Lydia’s. Ginny dubbed it “The Multiplying McBrien Stunt of 1993”)

Perhaps the saddest part was that even the professors noticed how upset Lydia's friends were. McGonagall and Flitwick had even gotten the group together and spoken with them! It was weird seeing the normally strict Transfiguration professor almost...soft?

Colin had decided as soon as Lydia was back, he would take lots of photos of her, then the next time her friends were missing her, he could hand the photos out! He hoped Lydia didn’t need to go away ever again, but it was always better to be prepared, his dad always said. 

So far, he had an entire compartment in his trunk dedicated to them! He’d have to get a bigger space next year. There were some of the twins’ pranks, Angelina throwing food into Oliver’s mouth, Ginny and Luna giggling over Harry Potter’s reactions to the latest fight between his two friends, even some of Neville gardening. 

Colin was glad they didn’t mind him taking photos, because he liked doing it. Often, when he woke and had trouble believing he really was magical, he would take the photos out and it would help him believe again. 

He didn’t ever want to stop believing. 

* * *

Lydia's back ached. Oh, how it ached. She knew it would, the doctors had told her so, but she’d really thought that by three months it would hurt less so. 

Tomorrow would be Christmas, which meant she had less than a week before she was expected back at school, where she’d have to climb the staircases, and stand for most the day and…oh god so much more. It was going to suck. 

Lydia was already dreading Herbology and Potions the most, because she still wasn’t allowed to lift anything more than two kilograms and those classes kind of require you to lift heavy things. She was totally going to fail all her classes! 

Her mom had left for another shift, so it was just her and Grandfather tonight. He’d been sitting with her until the doorbell rang, and then he’d gotten a giddy look on his face and ran out. 

Someone knocked on her door, and a familiar voice sang, “Oh Lydia! Guess who!”

She beamed, not even bother to shove her hope down. “Oh my god, no fucking way.”

Fred’s face peeked from behind her door. “Uh, no? It’s me! Who would even name their kid that?”

“My sincerest apologies, ‘me’, I’m ever so sorry.”

Ginny pushed past her brothers and sat carefully on Lydia’s bed. “Lydia! Oh how I’ve missed you!”

Lydia grinned at the younger girl and asked, “Fucked anyone’s gran’s?”

“No, I haven’t needed to.”

The girls giggled, leaving the twins confused. The look the two shared seemed to say,  _ We shouldn’t ask.  _

George perched on Stoner’s tower, while Fred sat down on the shaggy rug. 

She peered down at them and lifted her arm to wave, wincing in pain. “Missed you two.”

“We missed you more!”

She rolled her eyes. “Tell me, did anything good happen while I was gone?”

The three launched into the happenings and rumors of Hogwarts eagerly, (what was it with the relentless gossip mill?) and Lydia learned of Colin Creevey, their new friend. 

(“He’s a bit excitable.”

“Jumps around a lot.”

“Always taking photos with that camera of his.”

“Oh, here! We brought one.”

The photo was Muggle, taken at the Gryffindor table during what looked like breakfast. Neville was half asleep, his head on Ginny’s shoulder. The girl was laughing with her head thrown back, and the twins’ faces were covered in porridge and pumpkin juice. Behind them, Professor McGonagall was storming over, blurry. Even with the blurring, her tight lipped glare was clear to see. 

Lydia didn’t know if she wanted to ask for context. (She didn’t dare.)

Oh, she couldn’t be happier. 

_ Best gift ever, Grandfather.  _

* * *

Samuel McBrien hadn’t made many mistakes in his life, he thought. Sure, he ran a business that killed and tortured people, and should probably feel some remorse for that; He didn’t. 

Why would he? It brings in the money, and he’s continuing the family legacy. Great old Grandfather McBrien started up the business in the late forties, when Samuel was just a toddler. 

Back then, they hadn’t believed in involving the children of the family, it was a choice to join. But you know what they say, things must evolve to get better. And children were such good little con artists. You could make them cry and draw in an adult easily; People were weak. Compassionate. Sympathetic. Loving. 

The one mistake Samuel will admit to - only in his own head - is letting his daughter leave. He should have been more firm, shouldn’t have let her leave in the midst of the night with her mother and grandfather. Should have cared enough to call her regularly, if only to keep her under his thumb. 

But no, Samuel was a fool. He had been too lenient with the girl, far too kind. 

That wouldn’t be continuing. Soon, Samuel would have his daughter again, and this time he wouldn’t be letting her go anytime soon.

Yes, things would tame a turn for the better soon. The McBrien name would be feared, and they would thrive again. After all, Samuel had a Plan B and it would be put to action very soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Loves! Is that foreshadowing at the end? Yes, yes it is. Also! There should be another addition to “little scenes” this week sometime. Comment, it gives me serotonin! 
> 
> Next Week: Yet another elf decides Lydia needs mothering. 
> 
> words: 1419 (Look out for a little scene to make up for it!)


	7. Madam Pince’s Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No,” Lilsey shook her head, shoving the plate at Lydia more forcefully. “Miss McBrien bes not moving for six hours. Miss Pincey bes telling Lilsey. Pincey bes worried.”  
>  “Six...holy shit.” Lilsey flicked Lydia’s nose in rebuke for the swear, then plopped a strawberry into the girl’s mouth. “Eat!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness Loves! Life is stressful!

Being out of lessons for three months meant you were given quite the stack of make-up work, which meant Lydia now had no social life. Her friends understood, of course, and truthfully, Lydia was glad they left her alone. Being back at Hogwarts after so long was hard on not only her migraines, but she had to constantly control the urge to punch somebody. So, despite her common sense screaming at her not to, she’d doubled her potion dosage. Maurice told her to do what she felt she needed with them, so she was. The new dosage definitely helped, because now she felt no emotion whatsoever! Quite the fix.

Professors Babbling, Flitwick, McGonagall, Sinistra, and Sprout had all gone easy on her and all she had to do was read the chapters they’d covered, then when she finished, go to them for a simple test to make sure she understood. She’d taken the Charms test within four days, and she had scheduled the other four near the end of February.

Snape had not been so lenient. She had to get the notes from one of her friends, as well as write each essay he’d assigned while she’d been gone. He told her to expect a pop quiz at some point at the end of the month, when she was expected to have finished all the essays and readings. 

So, yes, the library had become her most frequented place in all of Hogwarts - even more than the dining hall. (She was avoiding the infirmary because she knew she’d lost quite a bit of weight in the way her cheeks had become less chubby and her ribs were slightly pointier.)

So immersed in her potions textbook, Lydia didn’t even glance up when an elf popped right next to her. In fact, it had to climb onto the table and jump a few times to get her notice.

“Holy-” She held a hand over her rapidly beating heart. “Who are you and why are you standing on my doxycide essay?”

The elf, with slightly orange skin, bowed her head. “My name bes Lilsey, and I’s feeding idiot student.” Lilsey held out a plate stacked high with fruits and vegetables. “Yous bes eating now.”

Lydia frowned. “Oh, well, thank you. But I don’t need a snack, I’ve only been here for two - wait, why is it dark outside? Did the twins play a prank? I swear, I wasn’t in on it.”

“No,” Lilsey shook her head, shoving the plate at Lydia more forcefully. “Miss McBrien bes not moving for six hours. Miss Pincey bes telling Lilsey. Pincey bes  _ worried _ .”

“Six...holy shit.” Lilsey flicked Lydia’s nose in rebuke for the swear, then plopped a strawberry into the girl’s mouth. “Eat!”

After chewing, her grandfather had taught her manners, Lydia asked, “Is Madam Pince angry?”

Lilsey seemed aghast at the very idea. “Miss Pincey bes worried! Not angry with little student, never! Miss Pincey be so worried she assigning Lilsey to Miss McBrien.”

“Assign?” Lydia hummed in contentment when she popped a piece of cauliflower into her mouth. “What does that mean?”

Lilsey shrugged, even though the gesture seemed so unlike a house elf. “Lilsey bes feeding Miss McBrien, taking yous to infirmary, to bed. Until yous learn how to take care of yous.”

“Can you do me a favor now?”

“Ooh, yes, Lilsey can!”

“Call me Lydia, or something other than my surname. It’s too formal.”

“Lilsey call you Lyda. Bed now.”

Lydia grabbed one last slice of kiwi before the plate vanished. She was nearly full, but the plate barely seemed to lose any food. “Is it curfew already?”

“Yes. Lilsey be popping yous to dorm.” Before Lydia could even pick up her essay to shove it in her bag, Lilsey had already snapped her fingers, everything packing neatly and her bag lacing itself up. Another snap and she was in bed, in her own pyjamas. 

Lilsey sat at the end of Lydia’s bed while she got comfy, and shut off all the lights. She pat Lydia’s head, and then she was gone.

Lilsey had taken to forcing Lydia to take breaks, had even popped her outside for fresh air a few times. So Lydia shouldn't be surprised when the library’s doors somehow become locked to only her hands. 

Nevertheless, she is. 

“Go walking, Lyda! Is good for back…” Lilsey had told her, pushing her gently down the corridor and away from the library.

“Oh, that was underhanded! How did you know?”

“Lilsey may have been peeping in Madam Pommy’s office.”

Lydia gasped, but before she could say anything, Lilsey was gone. Groaning, she walked until she found a storage room.

It had taken her nearly a half hour of aimlessly walking, and her ankles were aching, so she opened it to see if perhaps a stool was inside. She just wanted to sit for a moment.

Instead of a stool, she found piles and piles of...junk. But it was pretty junk, so she snooped.

A tiara, a few old essays, some potion vials, dandelions, a journal, a broom, a-  _ wait, what was that?  _ A journal!

Now Lydia was many things, including a fan of reality television. In a magic school, television didn’t exist, so Lydia settled for watching chaotic Gryffindors fight over stupid things - basically medieval reality television. But this journal? Oh, it would be gold. It could even date back to A.D. times! 

The journal is red, with gold stripes messily painted on. In thick black strokes of what she assumes is ink, are the words:  **The Marauders’ Marvelous Mash Up of Mischief** . It’s thick, with pages sticking out of the sides haphazardly. Whoever this belonged to, they clearly loved it.

She opened it, and dust fell out and onto her hands. 

The front cover had four names scrawled in the lines:  _ Jay, Si, Re, Pete. _ When she tries to flip past the title page, she can’t, it’s as if the rest are bolted together. 

“What the hell?” she asks, “What use is a book if you can’t even open it?”

In the blank space below the names, ink splashes. 

_ Si: Sounds like you, Re.  _

_ Re: She’s not wrong, Si. _

She abruptly drops the book.

_ Jay _ :  _ Well that wasn’t very nice. _

_ Pete: Give her a break, Jay, we probably scared the daylights out of her. _

“Hell, yeah you did! To quote Mr. Weasley, ‘If you can't see the brain, it might bring you pain.’ What’ve you got to say to that?”

_ Jay _ :  _ Well, since we’re inside a book  _

_ Si: I’d wager you’re safe.  _

_ Re: Still, this Mr. Weasley sounds smart. It’s a fair concern.  _

_ Pete: Can we still eat if we’re in a book? I miss pie. _

Lydia let out a groan. Ginny would kill her for this, but she was curious. 

“How do I open the book?”

__

_ Jay: You must be worthy of the Marauders’ Marvelous- _

_ Re: Enough with the dramatics, Jay. To open the book, plan a prank in the blank space once our writing disappears. if we like it, you open the book.  _

Lydia got to planning.

_ Inject the dinner rolls with Wideye potion, and sprinkle Vitamix in with the mash. Swap all pumpkin juice with Amortentia, dyed with food coloring, keyed to Professor Snape. _

Lydia wasn’t very good at thinking up pranks, usually she just helped the twins fine tune their own ideas. But she thought her idea was rather promising. The Marauders were stuck on one particular fact, however.

_ Jay: Snape, a professor? _

_ Si: Snivellus? Teaching children? Dumbledore’s gone barmy. _

_ Pete: Perhaps a different Snape? _

_ Re: Isn’t it dangerous to add things to a potion not meant for it?  _

“Yes, Snape’s a professor, and yes he’s awful at it. And no, Re, it won’t bother the potion. The food coloring has no taste, and is actually made out of petroleum. It goes fine with the peppermint oil.” She idly ran her thumb against the still stuck pages. “Am I worthy yet?”

_ Si: Put the prank into practice then we’ll see. _

_ Re: We can’t see, we’re a book, you dolt. _

_ Pete: I think you’re worthy. _

_ Jay: Hell, it’s a good prank. Just promise you’ll do it and the MMMUM is yours. _

_ Si: Heh, it spells Mum. _

Lydia ignored the bickering that followed, and looked to the book’s pages again. This time, they let her thumb through them. 

The first one dated back to 1971, and the writing was Jay’s. As she skipped to about the middle, the date and writing changed to be all four of the Marauders’ - Pete’s tiny scratchings, Si’s loopy calligraphy, Re’s near perfect cursive, Jay’s neat print - it was dated in 1974.

The topics focused on pranks the Marauders had pulled, the reactions of their targets, and what punishment they’d gotten.

The twins would die if she showed them.

So, predictably, Lydia showed the twins.

“Okay, okay! We’re heading to the dorm!”

“Pushy, aren’t you?”

As Lydia ushered them up the stairs to the fifth year boys’ dorm, she grabbed Lee’s wrist, who was attempting to flirt with Angelina.

“Aw, Lydia! I was just about to-”

“You weren’t going to get anything but a  _ Redactum _ to your bits. Come on, I’ve got something to show you!”   
They reached the dorm, and Lydia sat herself down on Lee’s bed, petting the tarantula that sat peacefully. The three sat down next to her.

Then, she pulled out the journal.

“Ta-da!”

Fred smiled like he was trying to humor a child without eating their mud cake. “That’s very…What is it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Can you dimwits read? The Marauders’ Marvelous Mash Up of Mischief! This thing has all their pranks from the time they first - woah!”

Lee had excitedly taken it from her grasp, in such a hurry that she had been pushed from the bed. George helped her to her feet.

“You’re bloody kidding!”   
“Nope! Oh, by the way, to get in I had to plan a prank, which they liked so much that now we’ve got to pull it. Shouldn’t be terribly hard, just need access to the kitchens.”

Lydiaa ended up having to accio the book from her spot in the dining hall so the three would come down for dinner.

* * *

Lydia woke to feel herself being settled against something hard, and she woke. 

Someone said, “So she didn’t wake until  _ after  _ we hauled her down seven floors?”

“I’m not bothered. Hermione’s right, she really does need the sleep. Have you seen those eyebags?”

“Or how she fell asleep in her goulash yesterday?”

“Oh or how she fainted in charms?”

“I heard Flitty nearly fainted himself! Especially when she got right up and back to casting.”

“Idiot, this one is.”

“But she's our idiot.”

She rubbed at her face, then opened her eyes to see the twins peering down at her. 

“What the fuck’s going on?”

They glanced at each other worriedly, then moved back a little, pulling her to rest between them in a corner of what looked to be the Great Hall. 

(Percy was pacing, and others were whispering worriedly. Luna, Ginny, Neville and Colin looked to be huddled together, plaiting.)

Then, they told her Sirius Black had broken into Gryffindor Tower, ruined the portrait, scared Ron half to death, and now the entire school was sleeping in the Great Hall.

She blinked at them for a moment, then said, “Flitwick said Hogwarts was the safest school in the world.”

“Are you sure he didn’t say the UK? Then it would be true. Because we’ve only got the one school.”

She groaned, then settled deeper into the twins’ sides to sleep. “I want one year where something’s not trying to kill us. Can we have that? Pretty please?”

“Well, since you said please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Loves! This chapter actually was surprisingly hard to write for some reason? I’m really bad at thinking up pranks, so if you’ve got something you’d like to see, moment it and I might do it! (with creds ofc)
> 
> Next Week: Lydia meets a dog ;)
> 
> words: 1955 (There’ll be a little scene sometime this week!)


	8. Monte Crispo and The Family Emergency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What about that one constellation, the one after the dog - what was it -ow!”  
> The dog had bit her hand, looking immediately guilty.  
> “Alright, so you really hate that idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for a nightmare, and one gunshot, and blood. none is descriptive. Look for the line break with a little * by it. If you want that part summed up, please don't hesitate to ask!

After a filling dinner visit to Hagrid’s - seriously, all her cavities were now full of rock cake - Lydia walked along the worn path back up to the castle. She was taking the longer path only because Hermione was bound to be in the dorm, because Crookshanks had killed Ron’s pet rat, and Lydia would prefer not to hear her cry.

As she was taking the dirt path, she noticed a shaggy dog trotting towards her. It bounded right up to her, and started sniffing her robe pockets.

“What do you want, baby?” She grabbed at the baggie of crisps in her pocket. “These?”

The dog immediately sat, and she laughed, tossing one at him. He caught it with ease, and ignoring that he probably had rabies and would likely bite her arm in half, she reached out and pet him.

The poor dog’s bones stuck out, and his long fur was horribly mangled. If she touched the fur flies would surely come out.

The dog walked forward cautiously to sniff at her hand, which held the bag of crisps.

“You want more?”

A happy yip was her response.

“fine, a few more. You do look rather famished. Are you lost?”

After munching on the crisp she had tossed, the dog whimpered at her. She took it as a yes, then tossed four more, giggling when he caught them all.

Tired, Lydia walked a little ways to a tree. She sat against it, shifting until her robe cushioned her still sore back. The dog curled up with its muzzle resting on her ankles.

“May I give you a name? I feel rude calling you ‘dog’ in my head.”

The dog gave a doggy grin, making her laugh. She gave his head a pat.

“Okay, just let me know what you think as I list them off. Hm, Midnight? Because your fur is dark.”

The dog just stared.

“Right, a bit too spot on. Crisp?”

A paw came in front of the pup’s eyes, and she was sure it was disappointment.

“Inky?”

This time, the dog howled in what sounded like offense.

“Cut me some slack! I’ve never named a dog before. My cat is named Stoner, which my mom tells me is silly.” She hummed for a moment, gnawing on her fingernail. “Ooh! What about that one constellation, the one after the dog - what was it -ow!”  
The dog had bit her hand, looking immediately guilty. 

She shook the pain off, literally, and sighed. “Alright, so you _really_ hate that idea. What about Shaggy? It’s from Scooby Doo. I doubt you’ve heard of it, since it’s a television show and you’re a dog.”

The dog simply tilted its head in confusion, so she thought more. Then, the memory of her recent book, The Count of Monte Cristo, popped into mind.

And in a pun Cedric would be proud of, Lydia exclaimed, “Monte Crispo! Get it, it’s a pun! ‘Cause Monte Cristo...and crips..?”

The dog wagged its tail, and she nodded to herself. “Good. Your name is now Monte Crispo. I’ll see you soon, alright? I’ve got to go inside and find Ginny. We’re gonna distract Ron so Harry can actually win a chess match for once. See ya, Monte!”

* * *

_*_

_The corn around her was twice her size, it loomed over her. But it was fine, corn was safe. Corn protected her. No one could see heer in this corn. She stepped forward, drawing the sleeves of her jacket further down her arms. The stalks scratched her legs as she walked through them, but she didn’t mind. She was hiding from_ some ~~thing~~ one _much more dangerous._

_A hiss._

_Something cold wrapped around her ankles, making her fall. The cld thing slithered from her ankles up onto her stomach. Its glassy eyes stared into hers - a snake! Don’tlookdon’tlookdon’t-_

_She bit her lip so she didn’t cry out, but the thump her body had made when it hit the ground was enough. In the distance, a group of shouts began. They might be a mile or two away, but they would find her soon._

_The warm summer night felt colder with the knowledge that she would be found. She couldn’t move, her limbs feeling locked to the ground. She had gotten her grandmother’s favorite dress dirty, now things would be so much worse, Lydia was sure of it._

_“There! The Asset’s in this row!”_

_Pieces of stalk fell to the ground, narrowly missing her. Henry appeared a few feet in front of her, a pair of shears in his hands. “Found ‘er, Grandmother!”_

_Lydia’s grandmother came forward, pushing Henry away. “Good boy, Henry.” She stared down at Lydia, the blue eyes known of their family glaring. Then, she smiled. “Oh goodness, a nasty snake. Let me take care of that for you.”_

_She pulled a glock from what seemed like nowhere (but Lydia knew it was her sleeve) and shot right at Lydia’s chest._

_Lydia flinched violently, but when she opened her eyes, she was untouched. The snake lies limp, its blood seeping through her clothes and onto Lydia’s stomach._

_Her fingers were grabbed tightly by her cousin, and he lugged her to her feet._

_Grandmother pointed the gun, resting it gently on Lydia’s forehead._

_it was still warm._

Lydia shot up in her bed, grasping at her forehead. She looked down at her stomach, and didn’t see the ugly frilly purple dress stained with blood. She was wearing the red tank top Mrs. Weasley had bought her over the summer. Looking further, Lydia saw the matching grey sleep shorts she’d stolen from one of the twins. 

Lydia lifted her shirt, and sighed thankfully when there was no visible blood.

She went to the showers anyway. It felt dirty.

*

* * *

It was time like these Harry Potter annoyed Lydia. 

For whatever reason, the idiot blamed himself not only for Hermione’s petrification the previous year, but also for her own and everyone else’s! 

When she had approached him on the train back in September, truly wanting to be his friend or at least acquaintances, and he had told her a few rules, she hadn't been very happy.

_“I want to be your friend, I do, Lydia. But we should keep it quiet.”_

_“If you’re ashamed to be my friend then don’t be. I’m not some dirty little secret.”_

_He shook his head hurriedly, his broken glasses slipping off his nose. He slammed them back on in a move that had to hurt, and said, “Wait, no! I wouldn’t be ashamed to be friends. I just don’t want you hurt. I know you’ve got your knife-”_

_“People opener.”_

_“What?”_

_“It’s called a people opener.”_

_“Okay, sure. Your...people opener. You’ve got that, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that people get hurt around me. Look at last year, I almost couldn’t save Ginny, and you and Hermione got petrified! Not too mention Colin, and that Penelope girl. It’s too late for Hermione and the Weasleys to stay away from the spotlight, but not you. Nobody really knows you.”_

_“Golly, thanks. Just what every girl wants to hear.”_

_Harry glared at her. “Lydia, please.”_

_“So what, we meet in secret? I write you if i want to talk instead of jus sitting by you at lunch?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“God, you’re an idiot. But I get it. Believe it or not, I know how it feels to want to stay under the public’s radar.” She held out her hand. “Shake on it, and we’ll be secret friends. But none of that stupid shit where you pretend to hate me in public. We’re indifferent to each other at most.”_

_He grinned and shook her hand, then went back to his own compartment. She looked around the empty storage compartment, then made her way back to hers. “Fucking idiot.”_

So yeah, Harry Potter was an idiot. But he was Lydia’s idiot, so she would do this. By this, she means magically changing her hair and eye color for a half hour. Yes, it was dangerous, but her entire childhood was dangerous. If it were a chapter in a book, it would be something ridiculously cliche like: Danger Is My Middle Name.

Harry’s in the library, which is rare, and she takes advantage of the fact that he’s alone. Hermione and Ron had finally stopped fighting, and Harry looked much less exhausted due to it. Hell, every Gryffindor was less exhausted.

She plops her books down quietly and can feel Lilsey pop into the shaded shelves to watch and make sure Lydia doesn’t stay long. (Overbearing little elf.)

Harry doesn’t look up.

“Wow, you really have a bad habit of spelling Aconite with two e’s.”

He jumped, and Lydia slapped a hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t get them kicked out.

“Lydia?” He asked after peeling her hand off, “You can’t be here-”

“No one but you can see my real appearance. To everyone else I have brown eyes and red hair. My voice is also really squeaky so just shut up and don’t talk.”

He looked around then gestured to the chair next to him. “How come I can see you?”

“I keyed the charms into your hair. You shed like a dog.”

He brought a hand up to his hair with an offended look that nearly made her cackle. Instead, she spread her books out and began to put quill to paper.

Harry asked, a few minutes into the silence, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a study group to do this kind of thing?”

“I solemnly swear I’m up to know good.” She winked, then immediately decided never to do it again, because she felt gross.

Lydia could actually see the moment Harry’s two brain cells (He shared them with Ron) put it together. His eyes widened, he looked around like Snape was going to pop out, and leaned in closer. “Who told you about the Marauders?”

She snorted. “Mate, the twins are my best friends. You think I haven’t heard their daily worship to the gods of mischief? As if.” She shook her head. “As for how I know you know them as well? I saw you with the map. Be more subtle.”

* * *

Lydia’s half listening to Lee tell an over dramatic story of a recent prank, and half focused on cutting up her chicken roast when she spots Professor McGonagall out of her peripheral vision. She nudges George in the ribs, and murmurs, “Kitty.”

He sits up straighter and loudly tells Lee, “Mate, you’ve GOT to stop fancying McGonagall!”

Lee goes to lob his own jambalaya at George, when Professor McGonagall clears her throat. 

Lee sheepishly sets his bowl back down with a clank. 

Professor McGonagall clears her throat again, then hovers her hand over Lydia’s shoulder. 

“Miss McBrien, I need you to come with me. Anything you’ve not finished will be sent up to your dorm after we’re done.”

Lydia frowns and tilts her head back to look up at the professor. Immediately regrets it when her back jerks sharply in pain. 

“Yes Ma’am.” She pats each twin on the head. “See you later, peabrains.”

They’re both silent on the trek up to the first floor and into Professor McGonagall’s office, but when they do get there, the professor offers her a seat and biscuit. 

“Professor, no disrespect meant honestly, but why am I here? You don’t usually call people during dinner.”

“I don’t, you are correct. In fact, I believe Madam Pomfrey will be most displeased I did so. She’s ever so worried about your eating habits.”

Lydia refrained from rolling her eyes, but it was a near thing. 

“Even so, I received a letter from your grandfather.” She seemed to wait for an outburst of worry, but when it didn’t come, she continued. “He asked me to first read the letter and then explain it to you. He also added in the postscript to expect you to demand to read it yourself. So why don’t we skip the demanding and I’ll summarize then hand over the letter, hm?”

Lydia nodded at her, tense. “Kay.”

“Your father asks that you come home because there are family matters to attend to. He wants you to meet -” Professor McGonagall cuts herself off, and suddenly looks sympathetic, something Lydia hadn’t seen before. “He wants you home, is the jist. I shall help you pack enough for a weekend, then escort to your home. Sligo, isn’t it?”

“Yes Ma’am. Can I see the letter now?”

Professor McGonagall glanced around, then sighed. “Oh dear, I’m afraid I’ve lost it. Perhaps your grandfather will have a copy you can read.”

Lydia didn’t bother to suggest an _accio_ , knowing Professor McGonagall was hiding something. And for once, she didn’t know whether she wanted to know what. If it could ruffle Professor McGonagall, a woman who once took a water balloon of mud to the face and didn’t flinch, it must be really bad.

Professor McGonagall didn’t even let her pack her own things, instead using magic to pack them herself and staring down Lydia until she had finished her dinner. Then, Lydia had been Apparated to her flat and Professor McGongagall had left her at the front door, offering another sympathetic smile and pat to her shoulder. 

That was fucking weird. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loves, how are you all doing? Any requests for a little scenes? Writer block has been hitting hard recently :/  
> Next Week: We finally meet the sunling! Last guesses as to what it is?  
> words: 2213


	9. A Child Borne Of The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I should despise you,” she told his sleeping body. “I should want you dead.”
> 
> Yet she didn’t. 
> 
> And that, she thought as she curled up beside him, is the worst part. 
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -
> 
> Lydia finally meets the Sunling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to put a TW for the word k*lling, implied m*rder, st*bbing, and mentions of a g*n and threat of it being used. None of this is graphic, but please be safe and if you need anything summarized comment and I’ll happily do so.

Lydia hadn’t even been allowed to sleep before getting on a plane to America. Her grandfather has simply sat her down with a bowl of slightly cold soup at their card table (the kitchen’a had a knife stabbed in it) and sat across from her reading the paper. 

“Grandfather?”

“Yes Lydia?”

“Is Momma okay?”

He sighed. “When you learn what your father did...you’ll understand why your mother is upset.”

And boy was Lydia’s mother upset! She hadn’t come to see Lydia, but she was sobbing loudly in her room so Lydia knew she was home. 

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

Her grandfather pursed his lips. “There is no honest reason, Lydia. I simply am a coward and don’t want to. I feel if I do then it will be the truth, and I don’t want to accept it yet.”

“Did grandmother die?!” And yes, she should probably be ashamed at the excitement lacing her voice. 

“No, Lydia. Now hurry with that soup. You have a flight to catch.”

Lydia sighed, knowing that was as much as her grandfather would offer. 

_ I just have to pretend this is a stealth mission.  _ Lydia told herself later that evening, sitting on the plane and trying not to kick her feet.  _ I’m a spy, and I need to gather information about the foreign country and bring it back to mine. It’s all up to me.  _

When she arrives back in America, she realizes there’s a note in her pocket. It’s on a blue sticky note:  _ Your father will meet you at the house. Catch a bus. - Grandfather _

Trying to push back the tears at being left on her own, she was only fourteen after all, she hauled her baggage to the nearest bus stop. It was only a two hour ride from Indianapolis to Vevay, where she would then walk the mile to Blue Stone, her hometown. 

When she finally walked the way through town, making idle conversation with the few children who were too young to be scared of her, she knocked on the wooden door to her house. 

No one answered, so she pulled a bobby pin from her hair and picked the lock. When she kicked the door open and slammed it with her heel, she saw her dad sitting on the couch watching television with a small toddler on his lap. 

“Dad?”

He waved at her. “Lydia, I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten how to pick a lock. I worried, you being so far.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget, Dad.” When he just went back to watching the show he was playing, she cleared her throat. “Dad, who is he?”

“This is Nicolas Samuel, your brother.”

He watched her as she realized what he must have done. For her part, Lydia revealed very little. She swallowed harshly, and clutched her bag’s strap tighter. “Hello, Nicolas. I’d like to unpack in my room now. Are we having dinner tonight?”

“Yes, we may as well. And Lydia?”

“Dad?”

“Take Nicolas with, will you? I have work to get done and childcare is a woman’s job.”

Ignoring the fact that she was only fourteen years old, Lydia smiled. “Of course. Can you walk, Nicolas?”

The toddler, and god he had to only be two or three, held out his hand and slid off the couch, walking at her side. 

They reached her room, and she was only kind of surprised that the atrocious pink walls and her childhood toys were still here. Part of her wall had a hole through it, and she could see Nicolas’ took on the other side. 

“Nicolas, come sit on the bed.”

The little boy did so, and she got a good look at him while he suckled on one of her old dolls.

His hair was curly, something he must get from whatever woman was his mother. It was blond, like hers had been as a child, but much lighter, like Luna’s. She supposed that was from their dad. His face was pale like hers, and his eyes had the same distinctive blue all McBriens had. 

“How old are you, do you know?”

He held up three fingers, popping them out of his mouth. 

“Who’re you?”

“I’m Lydia. Are you tired?”

He nods. She could tell by the purple under his eyes. “I don’t get naps, Ly. Daddy doesn’t like.”

She frowns. “Well Daddy’s gone out. Lay back, I’ll cover you up.”

She spread the princess themed comforter over him, and brushed his hair back. 

“Do you want a story?”

“Daddy says-”

“Daddy’s an idiot sometimes.”

He giggled a little bit, covering his mouth the way she’d only learned to do when she was older. He was being ruined quicker than she had been. Lydia was scared for him. 

“Are you my new mama? Daddy says my old one got punched too hard by Grandma.” 

Lydia swallowed back tears. 

“I’m not your mother. I am your sister. Now go to bed.”

She waits until Nicolas is snoring softly to sit under her desk with the unclamped necklace she always wore. 

“Fred Weasley.”

There’s muffled voices, then Fred says, “Hey, what happened? Minnie said you went home.”

“God, shut happened.” Her voice cracks, and she hates herself for it.”

“Who died?” That's Ginny’s voice, and Lydia wants to cry some more. She hears a thud, and she can almost see George hitting Ginny with a pillow. 

“Oh just my parents’ marriage.”

Someone swears in the background. 

Colin’s voice pipes up. “What happened, Lydia?”

So, she explains. She tells her friends how her father had an affair, and that she now had a little brother who thought she was his new mom because his was probably killed. She tells them that she hadn’t even been didn’t picked up from the airport and she had to bus home. That he wouldn’t open the door so she had to pick the lock. That she was scared because she didn’t want to leave Nicolas here but she didn’t have a choice. 

“I just wanna come back home, with you all. This house isn’t home anymore. It’s just a structure with people I don’t want to know.”

Neville whispers into the charm necklace, “Lyds, are you okay?”

“Nev, I’m huddled under my dresser crying into a necklace while a little brother I just met sleeps in my childhood bed. Yes, everything is lovely.” She sighed then. “Sorry, I shouldn’t lash out. I’ll be okay as soon as I leave. I just have to last a few days.”

“Keep your head up, Princess.” George said it, and Lydia laughed as much as she had the first time he’d used the nickname. 

“I’ll try, Georgie. See y’all soon.”

Two more days. She could do this. Couldn’t she?

* * *

This was bullshit. 

She was due to leave tomorrow at dawn, and yet her father was keeping her awake with training exercises. And she really didn’t want to hurt this poor trainee. He was barely an adult, and she didn’t even want to imagine how he’d gotten wrapped up in her family’s crap. 

“Dad, why are we doing this? I’m leaving in five hours.” The trainee kicked, she punched his stomach. 

“Do you practice at school?” She kicked, he dodged. 

“It’s a school!” She told him, jabbing the ribs of the trainee. 

“Then you must train every chance! Stab him!”

She blinked in surprise, instinctually dodging the trainee’s attempt to trip her. “Why? This is training!”

“Stab or your foot is shot.” He pointed his shotgun at her ankle. Even from feet away she could see the safety was off, as it always was. 

She sighed, then looked at the man in front of her. “Sorry.” She stabbed just below the belly button, and stepped away as he fell. 

Turning to her father she raised an eyebrow. “Are we done now? My plane leaves early.”

“Yes, fine. But next time do not hesitate. You should be eager to do it, I shouldn’t need to threaten the gun.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lydia made it to her room, fighting the urge to cry. She was such a bad person. If she were a real Gryffindor she’d have taken the bullet. But she  _ had  _ stabbed him in a non lethal area. Did that count as good? 

She couldn’t wait to be back at Hogwarts surrounded by her friends and away from this awful family. 

Looking down at Nicolas, who was sleeping in her bed (he’d become rather attached) she tries to make herself hate him. 

(The first time she’d woken to see him in her bed she’d nearly screamed, having forgotten where she was and wondering how a child had gotten into Hogwarts. But then she’d remembered and had cried again. She was doing that a lot, crying. Maybe it was being back where her childhood went to shit, maybe it was the pain medicine from her surgery, maybe it was the depression she always felt. Or perhaps she was simply a crier. Who knew. Either way, Nicolas had woken up and brushed the tears off her face with gentle little fingers, and had pulled two granola bars from inside his shirt. “They’re get betta bars!”)

“I should despise you,” she told his sleeping body. “I should want you dead.”

Yet she didn’t. 

_ And that _ , she thought as she curled up beside him,  _ is the worst part.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Loves :) So I delved a little more into Lydia’s family life, something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time now! I will put up a little scene since this chapter didn’t meet the word count. Comment with your thoughts! Did you guess this was the Sunling? I’ve been dying to reveal it forever!
> 
> words: 1559
> 
> Next Week: Lydia finally reveals to someone what the potions are doing to her. Also, Lydia gets involved in some things she shouldn’t have.


	10. Observing From the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uh oh Percy, we’ve got little Lydia in our clutches!”  
>  “We’re so dangerous!”  
>  “Going to corrupt such a little flower.”  
> Lydia elbowed them both, kicking her feet midair.   
> Yeah, these were her people. Her tribe. Her...everything. 
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -
> 
> Lydia realizes that not every family is by blood, and maybe she’s only just found hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so TW for the word g*n, the word k*ll, the word b*llet, brief mention of the last chapter’s m*rder, d*pression & treatment discussion, mention of nightmares & panic attacks, an unused knife. None of the above is graphic and basically said in passing.

Neville didn't hate many things, he thought it was too strong a word. It made people ugly and mean. So he simply didn’t let himself hate much. He did have a list, however, and he made sure there weren't more than five things on it at a time. 

  1. Bellatrix Lestrange
  2. Healers that told him not to hope too much.
  3. People that mistreated plants.
  4. ~~The feeling of shaky hands.~~ Lydia McBrien being sad.
  5. The feeling of shaky hands.



He’d never thought to fix any of his hates, but maybe, hopefully, he could fix number four. 

He’d gotten together with his friends (and even after three years, he has to take a moment to appreciate he actually had friends!) and they’d had a meeting.

“So we’ve noticed the obvious, right?” Rhys Bailey, the Slytherin boy, said it with an eye roll. 

“Think it’s funny, do you?” That was Ginny. Luna squeezed her fingers.

“Rhys is covering his worry with sarcasm, Ginny. No need to be upset.”

Bailey scowled at Luna, but she didn’t care, as usual.

Cedric Diggory raised his hand. “Hi, um, are we going to try and cheer her up? Because I don’t like the idea of gossipping behind Lydia’s back.”

Fred (or George?) nudged the other twin. “We’ve tried everything, haven’t we Gred?”

“She’s not even responding to pranks! She loves when we prank the Ravenclaws, but she barely cracked a smile when we turned MacMillan’s freckles pink!”

Katie sighed from where she was leant against Alicia. (was there something going on with them?) “I’ve - okay, ‘licia and I - have tried all the things that usually work. We’ve taken her shopping, I’ve snuck her to the library, Alicia’s sang her to sleep, I’ve punched a Gryffindor for her… Nothing’s working.”

“I’ve noticed she seems sad. Well, more than normal. She...her feelings feel really scattered. There’s fear, disappointment, and oddly enough regret all jumbled together.” Alicia said, and it was almost like she could actually sense Lydia’s emotions. Maybe she could.

“What’s she got to be scared of?” Colin asked, adding, “Or regretful. She’s fourteen, why would she have regrets?”

Neville leaned his head against the brick wall of the storage room. “Padma, Heidi. Has she mentioned anything? Terry, what about you?”

Padma and Terry shrugged, but Heidi said, “I found her in a tree the other day. When I asked why she was outside she muttered something. I don't think I caught it all, but she said something along the lines of ‘The cold is different than the heat of a gun.’ Or like, something to do with a gun.”

“What’s a gun?”

Colin happily answered Ginny. “A gun is really dangerous. It can kill you! It’s this Muggle weapon that shoots bullets.”

“What’s a bullet?”

It took longer for Colin to answer this time, but he said, “It’s metal, I think. And it hurts a lot if you get shot. And I think it heats up - that’s probably how it goes into you when you get shot. I dunno much though, guns are scary.”

They all sighed as one.

Finally, Luna said, “Well, what if we bombard her with kindness?”

Percy frowned. “How would we go about that?”

Luna and Ginny grinned at each other. “Oh, we need glitter!”

(Percy immediately shut that down, and they decided on a much less messy plan.)

Lydia was fucking confused. She was also really scared all the time, and she kept waking up from nightmares where she saw the trainee’s panicked eyes go blank. She didn’t even know the dude’s name, and she’d probably killed him! She kept worrying someone would find out and tell her what she already knew: She was a murderer. She was unfixable, an abomination. 

Lydia was so exhausted and she was probably taking too many doses of her potion a day than healthy, but soon she didn't care. Because she could no longer feel sad. or happy. Or anything much at all. But it was okay. Numb was better than before.

Back to why she was confused. (Did she mention one of the side effects was the inability to focus? Well it was. She was already in trouble for not focusing in her lessons.) Lydia was confused because her friends were suddenly being obnoxiously nice.

First, it had been the twins. They were always kind, Fred plaited ribbons into her hair and George would hug her spontaneously. But recently Fred had taken to sitting next to her on the common room sofa, draping a quilt over her and running his fingers through her tangled ponytail. George would sneak into her dorm room (she still had no idea how and was afraid to ask) and sneak her up to the very top of Gryffindor tower, where he would tell stories of constellations that had to travel the sky to meet each other. 

Ginny, though still slightly shy around everyone else, would jump on the bed and they’d scream out their feelings about the shit of the world together. They’d listen to  _ Jawbreaker _ while they did their coursework, and stole Alicia’s makeup to try on themselves. (It didn’t look very good, but it was okay.) Best of all, Ginny would talk about who had recently annoyed her and what hex she had used on them.

Luna was usually kind anyway, and would make flower crowns and sing for hours, but recently she’d gone as far as to teach Lydia recipes she’d never heard of, like blueberry popcorn. Luna had owled her dad, and read Lydia various magical stories and shown her magic toys from her own childhood. Lydia had never had many Muggle toys to begin with unless she’d earned them, so it was especially fun. 

Neville hadn’t really spoken his mind before, or done anything he worried would upset her. She understood he'd been scared to drive her away. But recently he seemed to have thrown all that out the window. He would levitate himself up the stairs (And Lydia really wanted to know when he learned how to do that) on the days Lydia felt completely devoid of emotion, and he would nap with her. He’d read her his notes from that day, or a regular book, and wait until she’d fallen asleep to stop. He brought her different flowers and herbs each morning. He even learned how to make her coffee the way she liked it, which was the kicker, honestly. 

All of her friends had been doing nice things for her. Padma, Rhys, Colin, Terry, Heidi, even Percy for god’s sake! The fact that Percy was willing to break the rules and help the twins play a prank that meant she had her favorite music playing in every part of the castle for a full week - well, that made her so happy she could cry. And yet...she felt nothing.

This had to stop, soon. But, maybe she could wait it out. It wasn’t that bad, was it?

“Lydia!” She turned and forced a smile to her face when she saw Neville. She was happy to see him, really. She just couldn’t feel the happiness. “Lydia, I’m so glad I found you. I know you didn’t wanna come to Hogsmeade which, totally fine, honestly. But I found this candy and I really think you’ll like it.”

That was Lydia’s breaking point. As he deposited the sweet into her hand - strips of sugared watermelon - she cupped a hand over her mouth and began to cry. Neville stared at her in horror, but hugged her.

“Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to eat them.”

She pulled her head away from his shoulder. “Nev, that’s not it. I'm just so sad.”

She paused. Wait. She was sad. She was so devastatingly sad she could feel it deep in her stomach. She could feel it! She actually felt something.

“Oh, um, well what if-”

“Neville!” She interrupted. “I’m sad! I'm so sad and I’m crying!”

“I see that.”

Shaking her head, she smiled through the tears. She must look insane. “No, I finally feel something. I haven’t felt anything in months, Neville. I finally feel something!”

He stared at her open mouthed for a moment and then grabbed her wrists, to guide her to the grassy ground. “Say that again?”

She wiped at the tears on her face, and whispered, “Since taking those potions, I haven't felt a single emotion. Well, after I came back from America I felt depressed, but a few more doses and I was numb again.”

He was gaping again. “Lydia, I don’t think it was supposed to do that.”

“Maurice told me to add doses if I ever felt sad, so I did. Maybe it was supposed to do that.”

Neville pulled her back to her feet, and he huffed out breaths as they ran, he asked, “How many more potions have you got?”

“My stash refills itself.”

“Maurice is stupid. You could have accidentally made yourself ill!”

“Told y'all Maurice sucked.”

“Where are the potions?”

They thudded up the tower stairs.

“My trunk.”

Neville stopped when they were at her dorm staircase. “Grab the potion case and bring it back here.”

“You’re not coming?’

He pointed to where Percy was sitting in the corner, helping a second year who was bawling.

She ran up the stairs and ignored Parvati and Lavender practicing their kissing, grabbed her potion case, and sprinted back down the stairs. landing next to Neville, she huffed, “You know it’s such a weird feeling, running without scoliosis.”

He laughed. “I bet. Come on, this way.”

He grabbed the sleeve of her zip up and led her out of the tower and down a floor. They came upon one of the boys’ toilets, and Neville directed her inside after looking around. He pointed to one of the sinks. 

“What?”

“Pour the potions out. Legally he’s only allowed to give you enough for twelve months at a time. Though there’s an unspoken rule of no more than a month’s doses.”

She smiled slightly at his bitterness, then handed him one vial. “Help me?”

“Always will, Dia.”

As one, they dumped the two vials, watching solemnly as the purplish liquid drained into the sink.

“Isn’t this wasteful?”

“Maurice wasted the past few months for you, this is nothing compared.”

Ater a moment of quiet, Neville asked, “How did Madam Pomfrey let this happen? Don’t you have weekly appointments with her?”

“I’ve...been skipping some. And lying a little.”

“Oh. Stop doing that, please. Next time tell me.”

“Okay, Nev. I’ll try.”

He pulled her into a hug, and they watched the sink empty itself.

* * *

After being taken off the potions (and seeing Madam Pomfrey yell at Maurice for trusting a child to understand safe dosages) Lydia felt brilliant. Was she still having nightmares and panic attacks? Yes. Did she sometimes feel the need to sob in the shower? Also yes. But the kicker was this: She felt it.

She also felt incredibly tired, like all the time. The potions had made her tired and being off the potions meant Lydia’s insomnia was back and worse than ever before. So while her dormmates were sleeping, she was awake and staring at the ceiling. She fell asleep just as the sun rose, and the twins would haul her down to the Great Hall, where she usually ate whatever oatmeal Neville fixed up, then she spent lessons trying to stay awake, until she crashed during lunch. (The amount of sauce she’d cleaned out of her hair was insane.) She’s pretty sure Ginny and Colin had made bets on how long it took her to crash.

So, she’d taken to napping every chance she got. Free period? She’s taking a nap. The place varied, from next to the twins in their dorm, to between Luna and Neville under a shady tree, to sometimes even in Madam Pomfrey’s office. (The woman kept a beanbag in there, and who was she to say no to that?) Currently, she was snoozing in the shack behind the Whomping Willow. 

In the months since returning to school, Lydia had fixed the place up a little. A few cleaning and transfiguration charms, and it was almost habitable. She’d brought her own blanket from her dorm, and it kept her warm while she slept on the leather couch. 

She’s woken from a pleasant dream about a unicycle and flower crowns to someone’s screams. 

Now Lydia would like to say she hadn’t immediately reached for the knife tucked inside her shoes. Lydia doesn’t enjoy lying, though, so she won’t. 

Immediately after she had the knife - one her grandfather had gifted her back in October for her birthday, with a purple hilt - Lydia ran up the staircase to higher ground and sat down in a corner, pulling a tattered curtain around her body. She looked around for Crookshanks, only to realize he had left. Stupid cat. 

She watches the dog she had befriended come up the stairs, dragging Ron. Then, she watches Monte turn into murderer Black, and see her idiot Harry come running in, followed by both Hermione and Crookshanks. (That damn cat!)

By the time Professor Lupin comes thundering up the steps, Lydia is clutching her knife so hard she’s sure her hand will have bruises. Snape comes in then, and she’s not the only one who fires a spell. Luckily, she had gone unnoticed. (Really, why is everyone so inattentive?)

By the time Snape is stunned and the five - plus Crookshanks and apparently Scabbers/Pettigrew - manage to leave the shack, Lydia’s mind is reeling. 

She sneaks out a window and then she’s in Hogsmeade. Luckily it’s not a weekend for visitors, so all she has to do is cover her house tie and sneak into Honeydukes. A quick distraction, (“Hey I think a dog’s eating your stash of chocolate frogs.” “Oh no, my boss will kill me! Thanks kid.”) and Lydia’s able to sneak into the Honeyduke passage back into Hogwarts. 

She doesn’t have the map, but it’s easy enough to strain her ears and know that Professor Sprout was in the corridor over. 

After a sprint up three floors, Lydia collapses against the common room’s sofa, landing with her head in Ginny’s lap. The twins settled in front of her, Neville grabbing her legs and sitting beneath them. 

“What happened to you?”

Lydia blinked open her eyes to look at Ginny’s slightly worried face. “So. Much.”

Neville held his hand out, and she took it without a thought. 

“Stuff you wanna-”

“-clue us in on?”

She snorted at the twin speak. “I genuinely couldn’t if I wanted to. So much happened and I can’t even wrap my mind around it.”

They frowned at her, but then Colin came wandering over with his camera and things felt a little more normal. 

When Lydia wakes the next morning, Ginny and Luna are cuddling on her right side, Stoner is on her chest, and Neville is entangled with her left. Colin was at the end of the bed for some reason, resting his head on Luna’s hippogriff slippers. Trevor is croaking next to Fay’s own toad, happy as can be. 

The day starts off peaceful and lovely, then Lydia hears of Professor Lupin’s resigning, through Pansy Parkinson of all people. 

“Must be a shame, Lupin was the only other freaky face around here. You’re upset, aren’t you, McBrien?”

“Must be a shame, trying to contour your nose everyday and it still looking like a botched Transfiguration assignment, huh Parkinson? Perhaps there’s a donation fund I could donate to.”

Then, leaving Pansy Parkinson to splutter out threats, Lydia had left for Professor Lupin’s office. When she knocked on the door he was taking the frames of various creatures off the walls, and she immediately helped him pry a nail out. 

“Thank you, Lydia. How may I help  _ you _ ?”

She looked up into his eyes for a moment, and could see exactly how tired he was from last night’s transformation. 

“Sir, I heard you resigned. Is it true?”

“Yes,” he gave a sigh. “It is true, unfortunately. I have a -”

“Just because you’re a werewolf doesn’t mean you’re a bad professor. And no, we don’t need to do the surprised reaction again, we did that last September if you remember.”

He snorted. “You are quite the girl, Lydia. Yes, I’m a werewolf, and no, it doesn’t make me any less a professor. However, when the parents find out...Well, it’s better I leave quietly.”

“I get it, I think. I don’t like it, but I get it. You’ve gotta leave because of an illness you can’t control - even if you don’t want to. Because people are bigoted.”

He gave her one of his smiles. “Yes. You do seem to ‘get it.’ You also seem to have personal experience. Why would that be? You are but a child.”

She shrugs and hands him another frame, this one with a ghoul. “Ireland isn’t my home country, Sir. I had to leave mine because it was a danger to be there. Even though I know it was dangerous and I’d be dead if I had stayed...it’s easy to miss. And you clearly enjoy being here at Hogwarts, so it must be even more hard.” She smiled and slung her bag over both shoulders. “What I’m saying, Sir, is that I get it a little and if you feel alone in your feelings, you aren’t. Some people get it.”

Professor Lupin watched her head to the door, and just as she touched the handle, he called out, “Lydia! I wanted to commend you on your excellent work this year. You’ve not only improved, but you passed all my expectations. I dare say after you’ve trained a little more you’ll be a worthy opponent for even Processor Flitwick.”

She flashed him a grin. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll tell him you think so. I hope you find what you’re looking for, even in the Muggle world. A bookshop would suit you.”

Then, she left. 

* * *

_ Dear Mr. Black, _

_ Hi, you don’t know me, (well, besides the things I told Monte Crispo. Technically he’s you, right?) but I know all about you. i would first like to say I really enjoyed petting you when you were my Monte, and pelting you with snowballs. I’ve never had a pet dog before, so it was nice. Did you actually like those crisps, or was it more of an I’ll-eat-anything type of hunger? _

_ Don’t worry about me telling anyone of your escape, animagus form, or Harry’s relation to you and your escape. I’m not a snitch.  _

_ I looked into your (lack of) a trial, and were I not a Muggleborn, teenager, and a girl, I would take it up with the Ministry. As I am all three of those things however, it would only have me sent to a mental facility.  _

_ If you’d be willing, write back with information on animagi. I’ve been fascinated for years now and the school library has no information. Really, there’s too much “safe” material. Actually, is there another magical library around? _

_ By the way, if you hurt Harry the dementors will seem like angels compared to what I can do to you. :) _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Lydia B. McBrien _

* * *

Lydia lugged her trunk behind her, trying to shake off the twins’ attempts to help her. By the time they made it to the awaiting Mrs. Weasley, the two had hefted it over their shoulders, however. Lydia was instead carrying Stoner and wheeling Luna’s trunk as the girl sat atop it. 

“Come here, all of you! Oh, you’ve grown so much!” 

Lydia and Ginny grinned at each other as Ron groaned, trying to pull away from his mum. 

Ginny grabbed Luna and Colin’s hands, dragging them to Mrs. Weasley, while Lydia went over and grabbed Percy’s arm. 

“Percy! Hey, congrats on graduating.”

He smiled, pulling her in for a hug. Stoner hopped to the ground and curled around her feet with a hiss. “Thank you, Lydia. It’s such a relief to be finished with school.”

She grinned, peering up at him. “I just wanna say thanks for trying so hard to protect me… You’re one mother hen I don’t mind.”

Percy frowned at her, obviously confused. “Mother-?” He shook his head and said, “I only hope you won’t fall into the clutches of the twins with me away. They’re dangerous you know.”

“I wouldn’t worry yourself. After all, I’m dangerous too.”

“You? Lydia, you wear ribbons and flowers in your hair.”

“I also carry a knife and call it my people opener. You  _ did  _ see what I did to Malfoy’s nose, right? And how well I duel?”

He hugged her again, taking the chance to whisper, “Visit the Burrow if food runs low. Remember, we’re your family. Your tribe, if you will.”

Then the twins were grabbing her by both arms and yelling, “Uh oh Percy, we’ve got little Lydia in our clutches!”

“We’re so dangerous!”

“Going to corrupt such a little flower.”

Lydia elbowed them both, kicking her feet midair. 

Yeah, these were her people. Her tribe. Her...everything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loves, this is the end of year three!! Okay so I am gonna format the chapters differently, so they’re longer and not as stilted or forced. Not sure if any of y’all have noticed it, but I have.   
> Make your predictions for year four in the comments! Or say your fav line, or anything really - I just really love comments.   
> words: 3498  
> Next Week: Lydia goes back to America, and meets someone...

**Author's Note:**

> Loves, I’m so excited for you to read this next part of the series!! It’s going to be shorter than the last two (you’ll see why within a few chapters ;) ) but hopefully i still do Lydia justice.  
> I actually had a LOT of fun writing those letters to break up the chapter, especially Percy's for some reason. 
> 
> Next Week: We finally get to Hogwarts, where Lydia...isn’t doing so great. 
> 
> words: 2585 (I'm aiming for 2k words each chapter!)


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